


A Decade changes nothing.

by ofwyrmsandguns



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4
Genre: AU- no sole survivor, Death, First time writing a fic, Gen, Illnesses, i’ll update tags as I write each chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-01-10 18:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 62,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12305058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofwyrmsandguns/pseuds/ofwyrmsandguns
Summary: Without any leads to a cure for Duncan, RJ MacCready gets desperate to save his son’s life. Desperate enough to make a deal he’ll regret.





	1. Chapter 1

_Nora sobbed into the empty darkness. Nate lay dead across the gulf beyond the glass; Shaun was gone, his kidnapper’s footsteps still echoing distantly through the halls. She must be hyperventilating, her chest felt tight and she was lightheaded. Everything grew cold, colder, colder still, yet the tightness just got worse and worse until she couldn’t even cry. The silence was suffocating, and the world slowly faded to black._

 

///////

 

“I can’t believe he’s gone.”

 

The memorial service was beautiful in a clean, miserable way. The white lab coats had been left behind, everyone was sporting black. Even the synths, who rushed around making sure everyone was provided snacks to celebrate the life of Father. Biosciences had provided the best gift to the wake; bouquets of flowers adorned every corner and every surface, including some species that had been extinct for centuries. Flowers from the world Father was from.

 

Holdren, Li And Ayo were stood together, quietly ruminating in what was to come in the following months. Father had died without choosing a successor, only declaring it should be someone who could bring them closer to the Commonwealth and lead them to greatness.

 

“I think it’s a shame we couldn’t grant his final wish.” Li replied. Father had so desperately wanted to meet his own birth parents, but investigations revealed that the life support had completely failed in Vault 111, killing his mother and preserving her body as a monument to times gone by. The vaults were never meant to be trusted, Li thought. The look Father had given them when he was informed of his mother’s death was heartbreaking; the cancer seemed to spread at an unprecedented rate after that.

 

 _Not the first time you’ve seen that look, a longing for one’s parent_ , came a thought to Li’s mind, but she pushed it away. No, it had been too long, and it wasn’t the same.

 

“Well we could’ve hardly done anything about that, could we? She was dead years before he wanted to meet her” Ayo said coldly. A synth carrying a plate of food pastes walked up to them but was quickly dismissed.

 

“Maybe Binet was right. Maybe we should’ve just made a synth copy of her, rather than break Father’s heart.” Holdren mused.

 

“Oh yes, let’s lie to our aging leader and tell him that some ***thing*** is actually his mother. That would never cause problems” Ayo joked dryly.

 

“He wouldn’t have lived long enough to realise anyway. We could’ve spared him the sorrow and just destroyed the synth after his death” Holdren snapped back.

 

A courser had just entered the room. Two coursers had been chosen to ensure the party didn’t have any trouble, but this one hadn’t been invited. An air of tension filled the room; they all knew they had nothing to fear of their elite synths, but even most of the scientists that had created the SRB found them somewhat... unsettling in nature. The courser scanned the crowd for Ayo and upon spotting him made his way towards Ayo. People parted quickly as he walked through. With a sigh, Ayo turned to the courser, who stood to attention, motionless and seemingly emotionless.

 

“Unit X6-88, I assume you have information to give me, and you’re not just wasting my time?” Ayo motioned for him to speak.

 

“Asset Conrad Kellogg has been located, sir, but seems to have been killed”. X6 responded, staring straight at Ayo, who stared back unflinchingly. Many scientists wondered what sort of training Ayo had done to be able to stand so calmly under a gaze designed to strike fear into humans and synths alike.

 

“‘Appears’ to have been killed? Has he been killed or not?” Ayo asked impatiently.

 

“All of Kellogg’s belongings have been recovered, including his cybernetic enhancements, but his corpse has been disintegrated by a plasma weapon” X6 reported.

 

“Plasma? Who in the world carts plasma weapons around to kill mercenaries?”

 

“We also collected reports from locals to try to figure that out. Apparently, a large metal insect was carrying around an even larger old-world plasma gun, screaming about revenge in a Californian accent.”

 

“That’s... an unusual description. Do we have any leads beyond that?”

 

“Other than comic books? No, we do not. Sir, if I may, might I suggest asking informants if they’ve seen someone of that description, as the accent alone will make them stand out.”

 

Ayo pondered the suggestion for a minute before responding. “Yes, but let unit Z2-47 deal with that. You are to inform him of your findings, write a full detailed report, then you are to report to the SRB for another assignment. Dismissed.” X6-88 nodded his understanding before turning heel and leaving through the same door he entered through. Ayo turned to Li and Holdren. “It’s seems I have business to attend to elsewhere. Good day to you both.” He left the same way as X6, having to push through the mourners that refilled the space left in X6’s wake.

 

Holdren turned to Li in a whisper. “Unit X6-88, wasn’t that the courser Father was considering to set on guard duty for his mother?” Li turned to him to share a sad look. Father had planned so much for his mother’s return, all for it to come to nothing.

 

“I think so. That unit certainly seemed... trained enough.” They stood in silence for a few minutes before Li pondered aloud. “What did he mean by ‘other than comic books’ anyway?”

 

“He might have meant the Ant Agoniser, but the description doesn’t match too well.” Holdren replied. After a few more minutes of silence, Holdren turned toi with a thoughtful look in his eye. “Wait. Was that an attempt at humour?”


	2. The Deal is Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MacCready is desperate.

  
MacCready has been in countless shady, and seedy, locals, but something about the quiet of the CIT ruins made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge. Why the Institute was requesting guns-for-hire come to the ruins for a potential job was beyond him, but he knew time was running short.

 

If anyone could help Duncan, it was the Institute.

 

After all the crap that had happened while running with the gunners, MacCready never dreamed that he’d sign up for permanent sharp-shooter work again, but Duncan has been sick for so long now, and he was no closer to the supposed cure found in Med Tek. MacCready has to consider other options.

 

A shadow loomed at the end of a hallway ahead. Readying his gun, MacCready crept forward. It was a super mutant; dead, covered in laser burns concentrated around the face. _Must be headed the right way, if the institute has already cleared this way,_ thought MacCready.

Eventually, he reached a large room filled with desks, chalkboards and skeletons. A classroom, like the one back at Little Lamplight but much larger. A woman in a white lab coat with black trimmings sat at a desk, filling out some form or another. Three gen 2 synths and a gen 1 synth stood with their laser rifles ready, surrounding the desk. In the shadows stood a tall, well built woman in black leather also wielding a laser rifle. A sense of dread washed over MacCready. _That must be a courser_ , he thought. He’d heard stories, everyone had, but to see one up close was unnerving.

 

“Heh, you’d almost think you were waiting for me or something.” MacCready joked. It was too quiet; he’d expect to at least see one other person pulled to the promise of as many caps as they’d offered, but the building had been dead.

 

“We have our network of informants. We were aware that you were coming.” The woman replied, not lifting her eyes from the papers. _Crap, that’s unsettling._

 

“So, you know why I’m interested in the job too?” MacCready asked, moving slowly closer as to not attract a reaction from the courser watching him steadily.

 

“The proposed money, I imagine. Please, take a seat.” She indicated to the old school chair across the desk from her. MacCready sat down warily, but relieved that they didn’t know everything on him; at least it made him feel that he had an edge on them. “Are you confident that you have what it takes to work for us as a permanent mercenary to the Institute?”

 

“Lady, you’re looking at the best damn sniper in the Commonwealth. I can handle the work.” MacCready boasted. The woman looked up slightly, eying him up from down her nose, and lightly shook her head.

 

“We’ll be the judge of that. We need to perform a physical and test your abilities before we hand over the contracted 2000 caps to secure your commitment. Are you willing to accept those conditions?”

 

“Wait. I want to, uh, negotiate the payment.” MacCready blurted out. He had to make sure he got what he needed before agreeing to anything.

 

“The deal is very fair. Unless you are simply that good we will not offer you any extra caps. And your past reputation with the gunner precedes you, MacCready. We do not usually associate with raider types, never mind give them more money.”

 

“Look, the institute is sciencey right? You must have at least researched cures for some diseases right?” The woman sighed and put down her pen, looking straight at MacCready for the first time with a look of disdain.

 

“If you have an illness that will directly reduce your ability to work with us then the contract is void.” She stated with a voice of annoyance. MacCready wrung his hands in worry.

 

“It’s not for me, it’s for my son, Duncan. He’s four. He’s been ill for so long now, I don’t know what else to do. I have no where else to go. If I don’t find a way to help him, he’ll die and I’ll have nothing. Please, I don’t care about the cap down payment. I just want my son to be well.” He pleaded, tears pricking at his eyes that he roughly wiped away. The woman seemed taken aback, sitting silently for a few moments, pondering.

 

“What is your son sick with?”

 

“We’re not quite sure. Doc Church says it’s an old world disease. One day he was fine, next he has a fever and before long big, blue boils popped up all over his body.”

 

The woman sat in quiet contemplation, tapping her pen against her teeth. She set everything aside, placed her hands on the table and looked evenly at MacCready.

 

“I cannot make any promises, but I will ask my superiors. Please, wait outside.”

 

_Well, it’s something,_ thought MacCready as he left the room to stand by the door. _Even if they say no, at least I tried._

 

/////////////

 

“Yes, I believe that is a disease we’ve found a cure for. It was many years ago though, so there’s no guarantee that it’ll still work”. Rapid evolution of viruses meant that, despite having similar symptoms they could be trying to treat an almost entirely different disease.

 

“Are we willing to exchange this cure for the down payment? I thought intel was that this mercenary was from the Capitol. It’s a considerable distance.”

 

“A courser is already preparing for a mission to the Capitol to try and locate Dr Zimmer. A slight detour to this merc’s home won’t harm the mission. Plus, if the courser brings the child back with him alive and healthy, it’s good leverage to keep this merc in line.”

 

It was settled then. Calling MacCready back into the room, the woman started arranging her papers neatly in preparation to leave. The anxious look on MacCready’s face made her falter for a second; for a mere gimplse he looked so young, like a child waiting to hear if he was in trouble or not. She gave him a reassuring smile.

 

“My superiors have agreed to your terms, MacCready. A cure will be sent to your son in DC in exchange for your services.” Relief washed over MacCready’s face, but it seemed to try and mask... dread? “We’ll need to know where we’re sending it to, of course, but for now the instructions are for Unit X3-72 here to take you to our testing grounds to make sure you’re suitable for the job.”

 

The courser moved towards MacCready and stood close, dwarfing the mercenary.

 

“Stand close now” came the stoic voice as the courser dropped a firm hand on his shoulder. “X3-72 ready to relay to the testing grounds with guest.” Then, in a burst of blue light, the two of them were gone, leaving the scientist sat in a silent room with the older model synths. But something wasn’t resting right with her.

 

_He’s trying to look older,_ she thought. _His son is dying, and he’s barely more than a child himself. The surface truly is a hellscape._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m thinking of a new chapter every week after these first 2? Possibly every Wednesday/Thursday


	3. Zion

The city walls were made of iron; rusted brown after decades of exposure to the elements. A simple protectron had greeted him and opened the gate, but X6-88 was less than impressed. The sheer amount of old, twisted metal was a hazard, tetanus almost a certainty. And that smell, his nose wrinkled in disgust. Not as bad as Diamond City (a reliable source of clean water meant the outhouses smelt better), but nowhere near as good as the Institute.

 

Megaton, named for the massive, undetonated nuclear bomb in the centre of town. Supposedly disarmed, but still a little too close for comfort. It didn’t give a good first impression of the Capitol Wasteland; X6 would have preferred to see Rivet City where Dr Li spoke of sometimes (surely a city so highly regarded by a department head would be similar to the Institute), but he had to deliver the cure to the mercenaries son first.

 

He knocked upon the door he’d been instructed to travel to. It didn’t have a number, but it was the closest house to the left once through the gates, table and chairs stood outside. The floor didn’t feel stable at all and X6 pointedly avoided looking down through the slotted metal to the crater below. Between the smell and the heights he couldn’t think of a worse place to be sent.

 

When the door finally opened, a below average height black man in a set of pyjamas answered the door, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

 

“…Didn’ think anyone woke up this early any more” the man muttered, looking X6 up and down, his brow furrowing in thought before grinning. “Oh, are you my kiss-a-gram? You’re a little early.”

 

“Are you the caretaker of Duncan MacCready?” X6 asked flatly, ignoring the attempt at humour. The man shifted from leaning against the doorway to standing alert but comfortable, arms crossed and face tilted, eyes squinting in suspicion.

 

“Who wants to know?”

 

“I have been assigned the mission to deliver a cure for Duncan’s disease to his caregiver.” The mans face shot up in surprise, a look of disbelief etched across his face as he turned to glance back into his house. “As requested by Robert Joseph MacCready. He suggested referring to you as ‘Mungo’ if you didn’t believe me.”

 

The man continued to stare in disbelief before finally letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, chuckling slightly. Tears started pricking at his eyes.

 

“Oh RJ, what have you gotten yourself into?” He asked quietly, raising a hand to his tired face. He grabbed a gun from just inside the door, stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him, then stared X6 straight in the eyes. “Follow me.”

 

/////////////

 

The clinic was dark and dirty compared to the Institute, the air stuffy and dust-filled. Cleaner than most buildings in the wasteland, but still… The man was pacing the floor, kicking up more clouds of dust, while X6 stood to the side to attention. Returning the child to the Commonwealth with such a concerned caregiver present may prove more difficult than planned. The man noticed X6 was watching and stopped pacing, sitting down in one of the seats instead. He was breathing heavily and kept checking X6’s reaction, but X6 gave nothing away and stayed silent.

 

After half an hour in the clinic the man finally spoke up. “Did, uh, did RJ mention my relationship to him and his son?” X6 didn’t respond. He was curious, if only for the sake of how easy it would be to separate Duncan from this man to fulfil the mission. Or so he told himself. The man continued regardless.

 

“RJ’s a close personal friend of mine. See, about 10 years ago we... negotiated a deal; I rescued some slaves for him and he let me pass through his town. He was much more of an ass back then than he is now, y’know. If that’s even possible…” he trailed off. Something in the statement caught X6’s attention. “About 6 years ago we met up again, and I got him all the contacts he needed to work as a mercenary, so he headed up to the Commonwealth to prove himself. A year later he comes back married to a tribal he met who’d been wandering, name of Lucy. Told me he was gonna be a dad, he was so excited and scared, just 17… well, I had to do something to help, didn’t I? Declared myself Duncan’s grandad, despite only being 7 years older than his dad, but I always made sure the kid wanted for nothing, especially when MacCready couldn’t. Powerless against this disease though...”

 

So that would make him just 29… All wastelanders looked so much more than their age. But a thought was still stuck in X6’s head. “Rescued slaves?”

 

“What?” The man responded, staring puzzled at X6 for a couple of seconds. _He was wittering to himself_ , X6 thought. “Oh, yeah. I thought everyone knew about that? Killed all the slavers at Paradise Falls, releases the slaves and burnt what remained to a radioactive crisp. Guessing my exploits haven’t reached the Commonwealth yet.”

 

“I don’t have time to learn stories” X6 replied, looking away.

 

“It’s not a story. It all happened l. I’m Zion River, the Lone Wanderer.”

 

///////////

 

X6 stayed silent, and if Zion was looking for a reaction he didn’t get one, but Zion figured he was quite an emotionally withdrawn man. Yet, surely the news of clean water must have spread to the Commonwealth by now, it had been 10 long years since project Purity proved a success. Had this man been born underground or something?

 

Maybe he just didn’t believe him. He was currently in his favourite pyjamas as opposed to his iconic power armour, and even the gun he grabbed was wrong; a plasma rifle instead of his iconic Rock-It Launcher. Someone that had heard the unbelievable stories of him and his adventures wouldn’t believe this either.

 

“Guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Brotherhood’s been making damn sure I get as little credit as possible. Assholes.” Now X6 perked up, sizing up Zion from behind his mirrored shades.

 

“You are part of the Brotherhood?” X6 asked. Zion laughed sadly, looking down at his hands.

 

“Suppose you could say that. I was a sentinel, guess I still technically am. Stopped running with them a little after Lyon’s death; their anti-mutant policy just sits wrong with me. And their new war against synths… No, I’m needed here, protecting those who need it.”

 

“Protecting them from what?”

 

“Where to start? After Maxson took over, he declared war on all mutants, ended up fighting with the ghouls in Underworld. Was about to massacre them too; I demanded he let them retreat out of the Capitol at least. Pulled rank, seniority. Cashed in favours, everything I could do. He agreed, begrudgingly. After the Rivet City fiasco, I realised just how mad with power Maxson had grown, so I left. Raised a militia, took a sizeable portion of land stretching from here to Vault 87, got the ghouls if DC to settle in our lands away from the Brotherhood. We haven’t had too many problems yet but… it can’t last forever.”

 

Zion looked away from his hands with a look of guilt for everyone he couldn’t save, towards the door beyond which Doc Church was trying to save Duncan’s life. A thought came to his mind, not for the first time, that brought bile to his throat: what if the disease had been purposefully spread to kill or weaken their settlements? Duncan wasn’t the only one who was sick and if Zion hadn’t amassed as much wealth as he had in his travels, Duncan would likely be in a mass grave with the other dead by now.

 

It was then that Zion noticed X6 eying his plasma rifle and, keen to change the subject, he lifted it into his lap with pride.

 

“Like it? I’m not too big on energy weapons myself but… This beauty has saved my ass on too many occasions for me not to love her.”

 

“Where did you get it from?” X6 wondered aloud. It was a strange design, and Zion had received from a friend from the Commonwealth. Maybe a company in Boston made them and X6 recognised the brand.

 

“Did a favour for a friend. Someone had stalked him all the way from Boston with the express purpose of dragging him back into slavery. I don’t like slavers, so I killed the bastard.”

 

X6 seemed... off, all of a sudden. He stepped closer to Zion, keeping his eyes on the gun.

 

“A3-21” he read out from the scratching on the side of the gun “You killed Dr Zimmer. For the sake of a runaway courser.” Zion realised the sudden danger, as he grabbed his gun and tried to aim, but X6 was faster and stronger, twisting the gun out of his grip and throwing it across the floor.

 

X6 grabbed the shorter man by his shoulders and flung him out of his seat, Zion grabbing at X6 to lighten his fall, and kicking out at X6’s knees once in the floor. Zion started to scramble across the floor towards his rifle, but X6 has already drawn his own laser pistol from his waist and shot the man. Three bullets to the back and he stopped moving. One to the back of the head and his breathing stopped too. X6 took a minute to compose himself, before stepping over Zion to grab the plasma rifle as evidence for the Institute.

 

“He’s sleeping right now, but Duncan should be fine. The cure…” Doc Church walked into the room and jolted at the sight before him. X6 walked over and pushed his pistol into the side of the aging doctor’s head.

 

“Where is the child?” X6 demanded in a cold, stern voice, still shaking slightly from the fight. Doc Church pointed a shaky finger further into the clinic. X6 sighed and squeezed the gun threateningly; poised to shoot and leather squeaking at the movement. Doc Church’s breathing sharpened. “Lead the way.”

 

Duncan slept curled up in many blankets, his skin now clear from the boils but marks showing where they once had been. X6 scooped him up in his arms and walked out the door. _Mission accomplished_ , X6 thought. _Now to return to the Commonwealth and teleport back to the institute_.

 

//////////

 

As soon as X6 left, Doc Church rushed over to Zion’s body, looking for a pulse. It was weak, but present. It would take time, but Zion’s life could be saved. So long as they could keep him from rushing to save Duncan long enough for him to actually heal, that is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Id really appreciate comments telling me whether you enjoyed each chapter or not, or any tips on how to improve the story. This is the first time I’ve wrote a scene containing combat, so hopefully it was at least half-canny.
> 
> Also feel free to laugh at poor Zion River’s name, but there’s no way you can convince me that James “I-made-the-super-special-code-to-a-purifier-my-dead-wife’s-favourite-bible-passage” wouldn’t also name his kid something from the bible.


	4. To the Commonwealth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> X6 has his orders: get Duncan to the Institute. Duncan has other plans.

Duncan woke up as they were passing Arlington Library. Unsure of where he was or who X6 was, he started screaming and struggling to get away, forcing X6 to dart into some nearby ruins and out of earshot of the local paladins.

 

“Listen. You will be quiet and do as I say, or there will be consequences.” X6 told Duncan in a strict tone. Duncan still cried and tried to struggle out of X6’s grip, so X6 pulled him closer removed his sunglasses and stared the child down. “Behave yourself and I’ll take you to your father.”

 

At the sound of that Duncan quietened to light sniffing. “Dad?” He asked hopefully.

 

“Yes, your ‘dad’. Now come along. We’re travelling by boat to go see him.” X6 instructed, grabbing Duncan’s hand and pulling him towards the docks.

 

But Duncan wasn’t daft; young, yes, but he knew you’re not supposed to go with strangers and this man was definitely a stranger. He had to find help, but for now obeying this man seemed the safest option. He followed willingly, but kept his guard up for the nearest escape route.

 

The boat already had a fair few people on board already. It had been advertised as the fastest way to the Commonwealth, with initial pick up at the riverboat landing and a final stop near Salem. X6 payed for the tickets and ushered Duncan on board.

 

Crowds milled around, chatting to other passengers and complaining about how the boat hadn’t left yet. Duncan realised his chance had come and made a beeline for the crowds while X6 yelled for him to come back. Most of the crowd didn’t give Duncan a second look, the rest looked like they wouldn’t hear him out. Eventually, Duncan spotted an Asian woman sat with her three kids, trying to calm them down. As he got closer he heard what she was saying.

 

“… won’t follow us. We’ll be safe in the Commonwealth. We’ll be a family again, I promise. Don’t worry.” Duncan approached her warily, she looked up and gave him a bright, reassuring smile. “Hello there! Can I help?”

 

Duncan quickly looked around to check for X6, seeing him search the wrong part of the boat with his back to them. Duncan climbed into the bench and whispered into the woman’s ear. “I don’t know who the man with me is.”

 

The woman looked up quickly to look at X6 as Duncan indicated him. She turned back to Duncan with a look of concern.

 

“Where are your parents sweetie?”

 

“I dunno. Grandpa said dad’s in Boston, dad said mommy’s in a better place.”

 

The woman took in the situation, seeing Duncan’s terrified expression and the masked fury on X6’s face, before giving Duncan a tight squeeze.

 

“Okay sweetie. Stay here with my kids, I’ll go get help. Ken, give him your coat to hide in.” With that the woman stood up and left. Her oldest child, a boy aged maybe 12, took off his coat and handed it to Duncan to wear over his pyjamas. It was far too big, but it hid him well, and by putting the hood up and looking away X6 wouldn’t be able to spot him.

 

/////////////

 

Too many people, far too crowded. X6 couldn’t spot Duncan at all through the crowd and the noise just seemed to be getting louder and louder, so shouting for him was out of the question.

 

X6 was suddenly aware of a man dressed like a sea captain watching him through grizzled features and a greyed beard. He stopped looking for Duncan to stare daggers at the man. Unperturbed, the man wondered over to X6 with a smile.

 

“You look like you can handle yourself. Fancy giving me a hand to get the boat going? Everyone else is busy.”

 

“As am I. Find someone else.” X6 replied, turning away from the captain.

 

“Ah, you do seem like you’ve lost something. Tell you what. Help me, and I’ll get a couple of lads to help you once they’ve finished, eh?” The captain flashed X6 a grin. X6 considered it; he didn’t need the help but maybe this would get the boat to leave faster. He’d been keeping an eye on the exit ramp and knew Duncan hadn’t left the boat, so once the boat was moving he’d be trapped.

 

“Fine.” X6 relented through gritted teeth. The captain beamed, and pointed to the ropes from the boat to the pier.

 

“I need someone to untie the ropes so the boat can move away.”

 

“Why not just cut it and save the hassle?”

 

“Uh, I would, but I haven’t any spare rope, so we wouldn’t be able to moor at the next port.”

 

“Why not buy spare rope?”

 

“The hell d’ya think this is, California? No one sells rope here.”

 

X6 sighed, it looked like he had to untie the rope if they were to leave. He’d cut it himself, but the captain was looking miffed and there was no guarantee he wouldn’t be thrown overboard for cutting the rope, and the idea of swimming back to shore was very unappealing.

 

Pushing through the crowds, X6 disembarked and grabbed the rope, trying to unfasten the knot, when he heard a loud snap and felt the previously taut rope go limp in his arms. His head snapped up to see the boat speedily pulling away, engines chugging yet muffled under the crowd cheering at finally being able to leave port. The captain stood at the other end of the now cut rope brandishing an axe with a wicked grin. By the time X6 could respond the ship was already too far away to jump on board and swimming was… out of the question.

 

As the boat pulled around to show X6 the stern, four young faces peered over the barrier between the deck and the open sea. He recognised one; Duncan, shooting X6 a triumphant, if somewhat tired, grin, while the other three children laughed and pulled faces at him. A woman, their mother by the looks of them, walked up behind them, cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted:  
“That’s what you get for kidnapping children!”

 

/////////////

 

The captain found a bed for Duncan to sleep in; the cure may have worked but he was still tired from fighting the sickness that long. The crowd was reduced at each port; the spare rope had been found quite miraculously after leaving DC. The woman and her three children disembarked around Nordhagen Beach to find a new life, all sharing parting hugs with Duncan.

 

“I hope you find your dad.” The woman said with a sad smile. Duncan made to take off the borrowed coat, but she refused to take it. “Keep it, and remember us.”

 

Once she’d left the captain went to speak with Duncan armed with snacks and a teddy bear, sitting on the other end of the bed from the child who was still rubbing sleep from his eyes and yawning.

 

“Been quite a day for you son. You doing alright?” He asked, getting a tired, mumbled ‘Uh-hmm’ in response. He fished out a box of Fancy Lads from an oversized pocket. “Found these in the storage. Want one?” Duncan held out a hand and the captain placed a chocolate cake in it.

  
“Ta.” Duncan mumbled, pulling off the paper and munching on it. He hadn’t realised just how hungry he was, how long had it been since he last had ate?

  
“The plan is to finish the trip, then to take the boat to the nearest port to Diamond City. Supposed to be a talented detective there, he’ll find your dad for ya.” The captain explained, handing Duncan another cake that vanished just as quickly as the first, and received a yawn in return. “Get some sleep kiddo, we’ll be at Diamond city before you know it.”

 

/////////////

 

Captain Jake had sailed this route for nigh on 30 years by now, but he hadn’t ever seen something like it. Taking kidnapped children from DC to Warwick… it made him sick to the stomach to think of all the children like Duncan he’d missed.

 

One of the ship hands walked up to Jake as he left the sleeping quarters. “We’ll be at Salem within the hour, cap’n.” They said with a salute.

 

“At ease, pal. This isn’t the military. How long from there to Harbourmaster Hotel?”

 

“If the waters stay the same and we don’t run into trouble… should take about 3 hours.”

 

Jake sighed. No matter how fast the boat went he didn’t fell it was quick enough. He was dragged out of his misery by his first mate running up to him, pipe rifle in hand.

 

“Cap’n, we have a problem. Raiders, about 20 of them off the port side. Looks like they’re packing some heat.”

 

Jake nodded his understanding, grabbing his gun and indicating to the ship hands to do the same. Noticing the commotion, a few passengers pulled out their guns too as they all crouched behind the port railing. The first mate killed the lights and engines as the ship sailed silently through the night.

 

Perching his gun’s muzzle against the barrier and staring down the sights, Jake spotted the raiders; illuminated against fires and flares, the raiders proved that the first mate wasn’t joking. One had power armour and a mini gun, another a laser musket. Here and there he thought he recognised flashes of colonial style uniforms.

 

_Had they raided the museum of freedom?_ he wondered. Lining up his shot with a raider’s head, he pulled the trigger and watched with grim satisfaction as the raider collapsed, hearing the blasts of his ship hand’s guns as they followed his cue.

 

The raiders quickly scrambled for cover, firing blindly at the ship sailing camouflaged by the night. Occasionally pings were heard as stray bullets hit the metal barrier. No one hesitated in the fight- they’d all fought raiders before, it was a fact of life.

 

But the loud “Be-Yow” of the laser musket, fully wound, being fired caught them off guard, striking the first mate in her neck, disintegrating her head into a pile of ash on the floor. With a roar of anger the ship hands doubled their efforts, but the noise and brief visibility of the boat from the laser shot had attracted the attention of the mini gun wielding raider.

 

The bullets tore through everything visible: heads, arms, the barrier. A bullet tore through the metal, lodging itself inside Jake’s side with a painful jolt as bodies fell around him in pools of blood and gore. Old faces, new faces, the pain of the loss and the steadily increasing loss of blood made his head swirl, the adrenaline and realisation that this was to be his last stand forced him to his feet, screaming his last curses as he fired madly and was madly fired at, until the world once again became quiet.

 

/////////////

 

The grounding of the boat jolted Duncan awake. It was pitch black in the cabin, but Duncan could at least hear approaching voices. They didn’t seem friendly in the slightest.

 

“Thought this would be a good fucking haul! Don’t these people have any shit to take? Thought they were trying to start a new life or some such crap.”

 

“You’re trying to hard with the swearing. Just say what comes naturally, don’t fucking force it.”

 

“Look, I’m new, I’m tired, and this haul is bullshit, alright?”

 

“Better.”

 

As the door to the cabin opened, Duncan hid his head under the blanket. _Cant see me now._ He heard them rifling through the cupboards and safes, bobby pins breaking and lots more cussing.

 

“Finally!” One shouted, yanking open a safe door and rattling through the caps. “Must be at least a thousand ‘ere.”

 

“Well that’ll cover the coat of fighting the boat but face it, no profit. We came all the way from Concord for this crap?” The two went silent, and Duncan held his breath. Footsteps moved closer to his bed and stopped. _Please go please go please go…_

 

The covers got yanked away, Duncan screaming in the faces of the men as they laughed cruelly. One was heavily tattooed and scarred, the other barely looked older than a teenager. The younger one turned to the older one. “Alright, we had our laugh. Now what do we do with the kid?”

 

“Yer kidding right? You are looking at our profit. Slavers love kids, pay top caps for them. We take him back to Concord and make a tidy profit.”

 

The older one grabbed Duncan, blankets and all, and threw him haphazardly over his shoulder, ignoring the screams, cries and kicking from the poor child.

 

_Man, the next time the slavers popped round they’d be so pleased with the captives they had._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the hits and kudos! Feel free to message me on Tumblr, my blog is also called of-wyrms-and-guns


	5. Escape

Miles Slayer, deputy of the raiders at Concord, was having a late night relaxing moment to himself, with his feet up on the desk, watching the captive watch him back. It had been three months since the group had overrun the last of the minutemen to take the Museum of Freedom to act as their head quarters. 6 settlers and a minuteman was not an impossible group to overpower. Once they’d broken into the group’s shelter and knocked out the sole gun-wielding member of the group everyone else in the group surrendered pretty quickly.

 

The Deathclaw proved an issue, but distracting it by throwing terrified settlers at it worked a treat while their previous leader found a suit of power armour and a mini gun to mow down the deathclaw, as well as anyone stuck in the cross fire.

 

However, their previous leader wanted to kill their current captive as well despite the advice of their current leader, Miles’ precious wife. She knew their was a better use for men like him: handsome, strong and good with a gun; she’d had dealing with Paradise Falls before it’s destruction, she was certain he’d bring a good price. Only thing was they hadn’t come across any slavers since taking Concord, but at the occaisional cost of throwing scraps at the captive, keeping him around until slavers passed by seemed reasonable for the time being.

 

The door to the makeshift holding cell room was kicked in as Mrs Slayer, in full power armour and carrying a mini gun across her shoulders, walked across to her husband for him to greet her warmly. He missed her when she went afield to raid, but he knew his skills were better suited to the office work he enjoyed, although his married-into surname always gave new recruits a chill.

 

///////////

 

Duncan has stopped struggling against the raiders a while before reaching Concord, knowing that as soon as the chance came it would be better that he wasn’t too tired to run. Still, he was bored, he couldn’t follow the conversations of the loud mouthed raiders, especially when they had drank foul smelling liquids or taken strange looking pills.

 

When he was finally set down he was in a small room with metal bars reaching from the ceiling to the floor. Raiders stood on the other side, loudly laughing and jeering at Duncan before leaving the room. As soon as they were gone, an adult man that looked similar to Grandpa made his way over to Duncan carefully.

 

“Hey, you feeling okay? Those raiders didn’t hurt you, did they?” Duncan looked at his feet uncomfortably. This man seemed nice and concerned but…

 

“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.” He’d always been taught that. Unless he was in danger and no family was around, then he was meant to look for a mother with children, otherwise strangers were to be avoided.

 

“Fair enough. You’re a smart kid. But if we become friends, maybe we can escape together and get you home.” Duncan thought it over, if his options were to stay here in this cell or get out with this stranger where he could run away if needed… he knew who he’d rather take his chances with.

 

“Okay. I’m Duncan, I’m four years old. My favourite hero is Grognak and my favourite colour is orange.” Duncan said with a sense of pride, causing the man to chuckle.

 

“I’m Preston Garvey of the Commonwealth Minutemen. ‘There at a minute’s notice’” Preston quoted with a purposefully overzealous pose that made Duncan giggle. Preston grinned back, but even Duncan could see the pain behind it. “I think I saw one of the raiders leave the keys to the cage in a drawer in the desk. Did you see it too?”

 

“Yeah! The guy with the weird nose was too busy kissing that woman to pick them back up!” Duncan replied excitedly.

 

“I can’t fit through the bars, I’ve tried already, but you might be able to. Do you think you can give it a go?” Preston asked. Duncan gave an insure hum, as he turned sideways and squeezed through the bars, holding his breath. Once on the other side he gave a small cheer and was quickly and worriedly shushed by Preston. “Okay, third drawer on the left. No, other side, sorry.” Preston said as Duncan switched to the correct drawer.

 

“Found them!” Duncan cried out. Preston breathed in sharply but no one seemed to hear them.

 

“Can you open this gate then?” Preston asked, pointing to the lock. Duncan tried, standing on his tiptoes, but he just to say couldn’t reach, so he took to glancing around the room.

 

“Oh! I know!” He said cheerfully, moving a chair up to the lock and climbing on, unlocking the gate with a satisfying chunk of moving tumblers. Preston pushed through the door and hugged Duncan in relief, before kneeling in front of the child and putting on a serious face.

 

“Listen now Duncan, there’s gonna be a lot of raiders outside this room. We’re gonna have to be really quiet if we’re gonna get outta here. Like spies.”

 

“Like ‘¡La Fantoma!’?” Duncan asked with the sense of excitement reserved for children without a clue of the danger they were in. Preston hadn’t heard of that comic series (most copies found post-war are found in Nevada, not Boston), but the look on Duncan’s face made Preston agree.

 

“Sure. And, you have to do as I say, okay? We’re gonna get out of here, but you need to promise me you’ll stick with me and do as I say.” Preston rested a reassuring hand on Duncan’s shoulder. Duncan considered it for a moment, before nodding in agreement.

 

“Good. Now all I need is a weapon. Wish I knew where my laser musket was…” Preston mused, moving towards the door.

 

“Laser? Like bright red? And the guy has to spin the stick before it shoots and goes buh-wow?” Duncan asked, Preston turning to look at him in surprise.

 

“You’ve seen it? Where?”

 

“The older kid had it.”

 

Older kid... a teenager then. Preston reckoned he’d seen a teenager around, but he was always with an older raider. It would be tough to get the musket from them, he had to consider alternatives. He held his hand out for Duncan to hold as he opened the door out the office open. The coast was clear.

 

They snuck out, pushing the door closed behind them and locking it with the stolen keys. _That’ll keep them occupied for at least a minute._

 

They kept to the shadows, moving slowly and quietly. A raider strolled past whistling, Preston and Duncan pushed themselves against the wall until the raider had disappeared around a corner.

 

They passed a room filled with mattresses and make-shift beds with three raiders sleeping. They’d left their guns out, temptingly simple to go and nab one. Preston weighed up his options before telling Duncan to go and stay behind a door out of sight.

 

Preston kept close to the floor, taking a few steps at a time closer to the nearest pipe pistol, making sure no-one shifted in their sleep or were disturbed by his movements. He wasn’t against killing raiders, far from it, but the priority was getting Duncan out, not taking revenge. He couldn’t fail another child.

 

Just as his fingers brushed the pistol, noise erupted. An alarm, pre-war, set up to wake the raiders for their next shift. Swearing under his breath, Preston grabbed the pistol, pushed the barrel against the head of the nearest raider, and pulled the trigger to a hail of gore. The next raider was pushing themselves up, but were shortly blasted backwards onto a pile of their own brains.

 

The third raider was luckier, managing to grab her gun before Preston could reach her. “Think you’re getting out of here? Knew we should’ve thrown you down with the other captives.” A step too far. Preston tackled the raider to the ground, shoving the raiders own gun to her temple. However, when he pulled the trigger nothing happened but the demented cackling of the raider until Preston silenced her with his gun in her open mouth, finishing the deed. At least he knew why she taunted him instead of shooting him.

 

Collecting the guns and all visible bullets, Preston turned back to the doorway, taking Duncan’s hand again.

 

“Didn’t they hear us?” Duncan asked with an air of panic. Preston squeezed his hand in a hopefully reassuring manner.

 

“Raiders shoot each other all the time. They’ll just think that’s what happened.” Preston replied, leading Duncan down the stairs to the ground floor. He could see the exit in front of them, but the crowd from before were stood talking in front of it. They seemed to be having a domestic, and weren’t stopped any time soon. They needed a plan B.

 

Returning upstairs as quickly and quietly as possible, Preston considered their options. The only way out was blocked but maybe...

 

Maybe they could exit via the balcony?

 

Last time Preston had seen it, he was fighting against wave after wave of raiders, desperately hoping someone would help them, but to no avail. Maybe this time the balcony would save them.

 

Pushing the door to the balcony open as silently as possible with hinges that hadn’t seen oil in 200 years, they heard a couple of voices, Duncan recognising them as the raider duo from the ship.

 

“So the museum of freedom celebrates what exactly?” The younger raider asked, the laser musket sitting casually in his hands.

 

“Centuries of killing other people in the name of freedom. Mostly just people blowing smoke up their own arses though.”

 

“But, we kill people too?”

 

“Yeah but we kill people in the name of money **and** are honest about our intentions. We’re not hiding it behind layers of false patriotism.”

 

Preston indicated for Duncan to wait in the room while he readied his gun. He made towards the older raider, but a squeaky floorboard gave him away. The two raiders turned on him with their guns pointing at Preston’s chest. Preston’s hands instinctively reached upwards.

 

“Isn’t that the captive? What’s he doing out here?”

 

“Escaping, shithead. What, you think he went through all that trouble to read you a bedtime story?” The older raider snapped.

 

“Surprised you got this far, your smell should give you away.” The younger raider teased.

 

“What do you expect, you didn’t exactly provide a washing machine. Not like any of you raiders smell any better.” Preston sneered.

 

“If he’s out here he probably brought the kid with him. Trying to save someone, minuteman? That’s never really worked out for you before, has it?” It felt like a kick in the stomach, but Preston stood his ground. Just one mistake by the raiders and he was home free.

 

“The gunners sure are enjoying Quincey from what we hear. Or what’s left of it anyway. How many bodies there were felled by your gun, Garvey? How many by your negligence?” Preston breathed in sharply but stood still. The two raiders turned to each other and laughed cruelly, giving Preston the opportunity he needed. He aimed the pipe pistol at the neck of the older raider, letting fly a single bullet that tore straight through, leaving the man gagging and bleeding as he desperately pawed at the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

 

The younger one whipped round to aim the musket but Preston was faster, grabbing the barrel with both hands and standing to the side, slamming the butt of the gun against the raiders stomach, winding him and forcing him to drop the musket. Preston finished them off with the pipe pistol; the sound of the musket was too recognisable and would attract too much attention.

 

Peering over the side of the balcony, it was clear that they weren’t out of the woods yet. At least 10 raiders were patrolling or milling around outside the museum and the floor looked too far away to just drop down. Trying to climb down the pillars might’ve worked if he was on his own, but he had to get Duncan out too. There was no way the kid could climb down on his own, and Preston wouldn’t be able to carry him and climb at the same time.

 

Preston returned to Duncan to think, while Duncan just stared at him expectantly. Preston gave him a smile.

 

“You holding up alright there? Not tired?”

 

“Not really.” Duncan shrugged

 

“Good, we still have a little bit more work to do before we can get out of here. Just need to figure out how to get to the ground without being seen now.”

 

“Are they scared of the dark?” Duncan asked, pointing through the open door where, despite how late it was, bright lights still shone in from outside. “I don’t like the dark. There’s monsters in the dark.”

 

That gave Preston an idea. If they could cut the power somehow, plunge Concord into darkness, they’d be able to move unseen by raiders. Some cables lay around the room, maybe they could use them to escape.

 

Grabbing the longest cable he could find, Preston wrapped an end around Duncan’s waist, fastening it in as tight of a slip knot as possible, placing the end that would loosen the knot through the loop to stop it getting caught.

 

“Listen, when you get to the ground, pull this end out of the loop and pull it as hard as you can until the knot calls out. Then stand against the building and wait for me, okay?” Preston instructed before creeping back into the balcony.

 

Cables ran between lights all across Concord and the museum. Severing one should stop the entire circuit, so long as the raiders weren’t good electricians. If it was a parallel circuit, they were doomed.

 

Preston wrapped the laser musket in old cloth to hide the bright red glow and aimed at the nearest generator, blasting it with a loud but comforting ‘ bwow’ and the town fell into darkness.

 

Raiders were shouting in confusion and rushing around on the ground, running into each other and old cars. Grabbing the cable tied around Duncan and using the railing of the balcony as a makeshift pulley, Preston slowly lowered Duncan to the ground. Once he felt the weight on the end of the cable go, he tied his end to the balcony, silently praying that the weight hadn’t disappeared because a raider found them.

 

Preston shimmied down the cable as quickly as possible, rubbing his hands raw but making it to the floor in no time. Straining through the darkness to spot Duncan, he found the museum’s wall and walked along it, eventually finding the cowered child who jumped when Preston went to grab his hand. Lifting Duncan up into his arms, Preston ran for safety, away from the pandemonium of Concord.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew that was a long chapter. The next few might be shorter to make up for it cos now I’m a little bit behind. I’m sad to have to kill off that raider duo, I quite enjoyed writing them.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you’re enjoying it, or if you’re not tell me why. And feel free to message me on my tumblr blog with the same name, of-wyrms-and-guns


	6. Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some well deserved down time for the poor lads

It was nearing midnight by the time they’d reached Sanctuary Hills. Far enough away from Concord that the raiders shouldn’t knock on the doors, but close enough to travel in one night. As a bonus, there were houses still with half decent roofs, standing from before the war.

 

Duncan was holding up well all things considered; he wasn’t complaining any more than you’d expect from a hungry four year old, and he seemed satisfied to quietly wait until they reached Sanctuary to get food once Preston explained his plan.

 

Mama Murphy seemed so convinced that this old village would be their salvation… it was a shame she’d never see it.

 

By the time they’d found suitable shelter with a workbench outside but, more importantly, enough cover to keep them dry, Duncan was sniffing back tears of hunger, Preston wanting nothing more than to join him. Those raiders really didn’t seem to understand that captives needed more than scraps to live on. Preston debated silently by himself whether to start a fire first or find food, but the gnawing feeling in his stomach gave him his answer. After showing Duncan abed to hide under in case trouble rose, he went to look for food.

 

Ignoring two hundred years of exposure, the houses actually looked pretty good. They’d yet to be picked clean by scavvers, which should really have set off a red flag but at this exact point in time Preston couldn’t care less. The cupboards were mostly full with cram, pork ‘n’ beans and Fancy Lads and it looked like Heaven. Easy pickings, no fights, and he got back to Duncan quickly. A welcome change to Concord.

 

They quickly scoffed the cakes to sate the worst of their hunger so they bare to build a fire and wait for for it to heat up the rest of the food. Pretty quickly bellies were filled and toes were warmed, which by most accounts is the best you could ask for in the post apocalypse.

 

Duncan licked clean his fingers with exaggerated noises, ‘mmm’ing every so often and smacking his lips. Once he found his fingers sufficiently clean he stared at Preston, seemingly taking him in for the first time.

 

“What’s a ‘mi-nitt-man’?” Duncan asked, spacing out the word with an air of uncertainty.

 

“Just a bunch of people trying to do right in the world, helping others out at a minute’s notice.” Preston replied sadly.

 

“Like a superhero?” Duncan asked excitedly, his entire face lighting in joy at the thought of having met a real life super hero. Preston couldn’t help but laugh, the kid’s joy and enthusiasm was contagious.

 

“Oh man, I wish we were. Maybe then we wouldn’t have fell apart like we did.” Then quietly, under his breathe, he added “Maybe then I could’ve saved everyone.”

 

“You stopped? Like the Unstoppables did after Grognak’s evil twin made everyone hate them?”

 

“Oh yeah, I remember that issue. I guess it’s kinda like that, yeah. Never managed to find the issue where they regrouped though, next one I read was 10 issues later and it never got mentioned again.”

 

“Another hero told them that people needed them, even if people said they didn’t want them, so they went back to fighting crime. Maybe the Minutemen could do the same!”

 

“I don’t know kid. I’m the last one, and I’m not sure if I’m willing to mess up again like last time.” Preston stared into the fire to avoid the look of disappointment on Duncan’s face. He almost missed Duncan speaking under his breath.

 

“I hope you do, I wanna be a superhero too.” Preston couldn’t bare seeing Duncan so upset, and he sure didn’t want him to cry, so he plastered a fake smile on his face.

 

“Come on, cheer up. There’ll always be people out to do the right thing. You can always join with them, or help people in your own way.”

 

“Yeah, but they won’t have as cool a hat as you.” Duncan whined. Preston gave him a shocked look, hand reaching up to his hat, before bursting out into laughter. He took the hat off his head and placed it on Duncan’s.

 

It was far too big, falling over Duncan’s eyes and nearly reaching his nose. Duncan tried to push the hat back up, showing the widest grin on his face, only for it to fall back into place.

 

“Your gonna need to grow some more if you want to wear the hat.” Preston teased, but he had to admit, it suited Duncan.

 

////////////

 

The next morning, and Duncan was the first awake. The big gifted coat was a really good blanket substitute, and Preston’s hat effectively doubled as a pillow. Preston was still sleeping and Duncan decided not to disturb him, he looked really tired last night.

 

So he had to entertain himself. He searched the house but found no toys or picture books. Maybe he could explore a bit, then a thought struck him. Preston had searched the house next door, but not the one across the street. Maybe that house would have food too. If he found some he could take it back to Preston, and wouldn’t that bring a smile to his face.

 

When Duncan pushed through the door he was taken aback. The house looked so clean and pretty, but desolate nonetheless. Someone had kept the house clean without living in it. Spotting the fridge and cupboards, Duncan walked over, taking in all the sights as he went. A sofa, a worn out telly, a counter island… it sure looked fancier than his Grandad’s house, or the farm he and his dad lived on.

 

The fridge was stocked, and not just with pre-war food filled with enough additives and radiation to keep them relatively fresh over 200 years after production. Duncan recognised mutfruit, fresh corn, even Brahmin meat in the fridge… it had been recently stocked.

 

They weren’t alone in Sanctuary.

 

“Who’s there?” Came a shout. Duncan dropped the food he was holding in a panic and hid behind the island. “Come on out, I don’t want to use force.”

 

Duncan edges along to the end of the island and peered around the corner. It was a Mister Handy, like Wadsworth but grey and rusty instead of the clean white he was accustomed to, or the military green of Sergeant RL-3. Duncan has always been told to stay away from them because they were ‘buggy’, so Duncan tried to think of what he should do.

 

He couldn’t get to the door without the robot spotting him, so he looked for a hiding spot. A cupboard about his size seemed suitable, so he snuck over and hid inside, closing the door after him.

 

“Come on, I haven’t all day. I have a car to polish. Come out and show yourself.” The robot seemed to pause and sigh loudly. “Oh look at this mess. Guess who’ll have to clean that!” Duncan started shivering in fear; he didn’t want to upset the robot -that would only cause more trouble- and it seemed the mess he left had at least miffed the robot.

 

Cupboard doors were being opened and slammed shut. How he wished he’d waited until Preston had woken up before he’d gone adventuring.

 

Suddenly the world got bright again and Duncan shrieked, shrinking further back into the cupboard. An eye stalk peered around the door and widened in surprise.

 

“A child?!”

 

////////////

 

It was cold when Preston woke up, a nice change from the uncomfortably warm and stuffy cell in Concord, but his stiff joints from sleeping on the cold hard floor still complained. He lay quietly for a while to avoid having to get up and face the day, but Duncan needed him now, so he eventually pushed himself up into a sitting position.

 

Gone. Duncan was nowhere to be seen; he’d taken his coat but left Preston’s hat (which Preston returned to his head while trying to think of where Duncan had gone).

 

That’s when he heard a shriek, prompting him to his feet and out the door with his gun in seconds. “Duncan?” Preston called out in a panic. He saw movement in the house across the street and rushed over, slamming open the door with his gun poised in his hands.

 

“Ever heard of knocking?” A Mister Handy scoffed from across the room, spinning around mid air to face a bewildered Preston before turning back to a giggling Duncan. “I swear people these days have zero manners. Wouldn’t have happened when the master and mistress were here I’ll tell you now.”

 

With a bowl of sugar bombs in a plastic bowl and a metal spoon, Duncan was cheerfully enjoying breakfast and waved at Preston. “I made a new friend!”

 

Preston lowered his gun but kept it to hand. Mister Handy’s had a… reputation. “So are you one of the few functioning robots out here or are you gonna flame us?”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it sir! I’m Codsworth, and this house belongs to master Nate and mistress Nora, and of course little Shaun. However, they aren’t home at the minute so I thought young Duncan might enjoy some breakfast.” Yet the house looked like it hadn’t been lived in for many years…

 

“How long have your owners been away?” Preston asked, slowly walking over to Duncan.

 

“Why it’ll be…” Codsworth paused and pondered for a while. “Well, it’ll be over 210 years now! My word they are running late. They’ll be starving, I’ll have to prepare quite a dinner for their return.”

 

Preston didn’t quite have the heart to tell Codsworth that humans simply didn’t live that long, but other than misguided hope the robot seemed to be working alright, so he sat down next to Duncan and accepted a bowl of sugar bombs himself.

 

Once Duncan had finished three bowls (at the urging and constant refilling of each empty bowl by Codsworth) he turned to Preston with an expectant smile. “So what’s the plan?”

 

Preston hadn’t considered their next move; he’d been so tired last night that he’d dropped off almost immediately after eating, and he didn’t really think he’d be getting out of Concord alive. But he didn’t want to worry Duncan, so he tried to think of a plan quickly. Codsworth, thankfully, came to his rescue.

 

“Well you two are certainly welcome to stay as long as you like, at least until the master and mistress get him.” He said in a chipper voice, before adding more glumly “And so long as you don’t try to kick down the door again” he finished with a tut.

 

“Sounds like a good plan to me” Preston replied, thankfull for the offer. Duncan didn’t seem so sure.

 

“But what about my dad? We have to find him!” Preston gulped; he’d been too busy to spare a second to wonder why a four year old had been captured by raiders with no parents in sight.

 

“Was your dad with you when the raiders found you?” Preston asked.

 

“No, I haven’t seen him in ages, but grandpa says he’s in Boston.” A small part of Preston was thankful, if his dad had been with him then his dad was either dead, or a coward that left his young son to the mercy of the raiders, and Preston couldn’t think which was worse. But Boston was a big city, trying to find someone specific in it with little to no leads would be difficult. They couldn’t do it, not yet.

 

“I’m sorry, but I think we should stay here for now. We won’t be able to find your dad just yet.”

 

“But Captain Jake said there’s some in Diamond city who could find him. It’s his job!”

 

“Yes, but he’ll cost money and I haven’t any right now. We can’t afford food, never mind a detective. We’re staying here, at least until we can travel to Diamond city.”

 

Preston’s face said the matter was final: no searching for Duncan’s dad, but Duncan wasn’t so easily swayed. If Preston wouldn’t take him to Diamond City, he’d just have to go by himself. Alone.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that doesn’t bode well.
> 
> Hope people are still enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed or hated it to let me know what I’m doing right/wrong, I much appreciate it!


	7. A Dog and His Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan tries to go find his dad, how far will he get?

Duncan wasn’t entirely sure of where Diamond City was, but the way the Captain had spoken of his travel plans made it sound like Salem was ‘up’ from Diamond City, while the raiders had taken him across from Salem. He wasn’t too sure of where Sanctuary Hills fit into everything but he felt it wasn’t down enough to be near Diamond City.

 

Some of the terminals still worked and while Duncan couldn’t understand everything on it, a few words popped out: ‘red’ ‘rocket’ and ‘south’. He remembered asking his grandpa what ‘south’ is once and he’d answered that it was ‘down’, plus he’d spotted a big, red rocket in the distance. So if he headed towards red rocket and kept going, he’d be travelling ‘down’.

 

A plan was made. Preston and Codsworth usually kept an eye on him at all times to make sure he didn’t get into trouble, but they let him out of their sight when he went to the toilet. When they’d all gone searching for some proper clothes for Duncan instead of his pj’s they’d found a house with a back exit near the exit of Sanctuary that he could creep out of unseen, it was just a matter of setting it all up.

 

They’d all decided to play near the exit of Sanctuary that day, or at least, Duncan decided while Preston and Codsworth went along with it. Once Duncan felt the amount of time was convincing, he started to enact his plan.

 

“I need to go.” Duncan plainly told Preston, indicating the house. Preston looked up and, satisfied that it was a house he’d already checked for danger, let Duncan go. All it took from there was entering through the front door and leaving through the back, and Duncan was on his way to Diamond City. He felt bad running away from Preston after all his help, but finding Dad was too important.

 

Adults often underestimated Duncan’s cunning and resolve, and Duncan had yet to figure out why. His dad would always tell him stories about where he’d grown up, and how his dad had to fend for himself and other kids from an early age. Had no-one else heard the stories? Grandpa always said Duncan reminded him a lot of Duncan’s dad.

 

Stepping stone-like protrusions in the stream let Duncan cross out of Sanctuary unseen. From there he headed towards the bright red building with the rocket on it. Might as well see the building to ensure he was heading in the right direction.

 

Dingy, dusty fuel pumps stood in the petrol station still, their iconic red colour faded but still detectable. Curious, Duncan touched it, feeling the cold metal where the paint had flaked off.

 

Under the sound of the breeze came a whine, putting Duncan on edge. He turned to see where the noise was coming from, only to spot some large, vaguely wolf-like shape with bright eyes staring back, before opening a devilish mouth to bark as it bounded out the shadows.

 

Freaked out, Duncan shrieked and made to run, only to trip on a crack in the road, landing knees first on the asphalt. A second passed before Duncan started wailing, sitting up to nurse his skinned knees as he turned to face his pursuer.

 

It was no hellhound, but a German Shepherd dog, their tail wagging playfully and tongue lolling goofily, but upon seeing Duncan crying the dog stopped, tail slowing and head cocking to the side. They went to approach Duncan only for Duncan to shuffle backwards in fear, causing the dog to stop again. Eventually the dog turned around to the petrol station, emerging with a raggedy old teddy bear, held carefully and lovingly in their mouth.

 

Placing the bear as close to Duncan as Duncan would allow the dog to get, the dog nudged it further toward Duncan with its nose as a peace offering, then backed off and lay in a heap looking as apologetic as possible. Not wanting to insult the pooch, Duncan slowly shuffled over and picked up the bear. It was damp to the touch and extremely well-loved, but it made Duncan feel better to squeeze it.

 

It was then that Duncan heard his name being shouted, causing the dog’s ears to prick up as their heads turned to see what the commotion was. Hurtling down the street with reckless abandon came Codsworth and, seeing Duncan crying on the floor, quickly made to comfort the child, helping him up and giving encouraging words.

 

“Oh I was worried sick! You just disappeared, we thought the raiders had taken you again. You mustn’t do that again Duncan, I simply couldn’t bare the thought of you getting into trouble.” Codsworth fussed before he swivelled around to address the dog, whose tail was now smacking against the floor loudly. “Have you been keeping an eye on Duncan, Dogmeat? You’re such a good boy.”

 

In the distance Duncan saw Preston sprinting towards them, slowing down once he saw there was no danger. He looked somewhat relieved but mostly angry, and Duncan felt like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

 

“No need to worry, mister Garvey! My good friend Dogmeat here was taking care of Duncan, so no harm done, right?” Codsworth insisted as Duncan tried to shrink away from Preston’s glare. Dogmeat strode up next to Duncan as support, sitting at the boy’s feet.

 

“Duncan, what were you thinking? You could’ve gotten killed!” Preston snapped. Despite seeing the clear worry on Preston’s face, Duncan couldn’t take it, snapping back.

 

“I’m gonna find my dad whether you come with me or not!”

 

“You don’t even know the way to Diamond City! What, were you planning on asking for directions?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“I thought you didn’t talk to strangers.”

 

“I want my dad more!”

 

“Please, no more arguing.” Codsworth pleaded, pushing his way between the two.

 

“I’m going.” Duncan said with a sense of finality, turning heel and walking down the road, Dogmeat springing up and following keenly.

 

“Duncan! Stop. You can’t just travel the Commonwealth on your own.”

 

“I have Dogmeat.”

 

“That’s not what I meant.”

 

“Then come with me.” Duncan shouted from halfway down the street, stopping only momentarily before continuing on, scratching Dogmeat’s ears as he went. Preston shared an exasperated look with Codsworth.

 

“I simply must wait for the masters, but you can’t leave Duncan to wander alone.” Codsworth whined. Preston knew he was right. Even if he hadn’t wanted to find Duncan’s father to help the poor child, he couldn’t just leave Duncan alone, he couldn’t live with himself if he did.

 

Giving a brief thanks and good bye to Codsworth, Preston raced down the road to catch up to Duncan and Dogmeat, as the three walked on in silence.

 

///////////

 

Firelight danced across the crumbled walls of the ruins around them before Preston finally decided to talk between mouthfuls of dinner.

 

“I do want to help you find your dad, y’know.” Preston told Duncan, who looked away, feeding tidbits to Dogmeat. “It’s just… a private detective’s expensive, I can’t afford to hire one.”

 

“Then I’ll walk in alone” Duncan huffed. Surely the detective had a heart and would help Duncan out. The look on Preston’s face was telling. “You’re lying.”

 

Preston sighed, now the one to refuse to look at the other, instead pretending to stoke the fire. “Before we met, I lost a lot of people. They died because I couldn’t protect them. It was my job, and I let them down.”

 

“I can’t go through that again. I need to keep you safe, no matter what. I figured it would be easiest to do so in Sanctuary Hills, but it wouldn’t be fair to keep you from finding your dad.” Preston finished, giving a small side smile to Duncan. Duncan smiles back.

 

“So, we’re gonna find my dad?” Duncan asked brightly. Preston chuckled softly, did nothing keep this kid down?

 

“Yeah, we’re gonna find your dad. Together.” Preston replied. Duncan cheered, throwing his arms around a bewildered, but pleased to be included, Dogmeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Farewell Codsworth; we hardly knew ye. He might return later though.


	8. Brotherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Preston and Duncan meet a soldier, and Zion is determined to go find Duncan.

Progress through the Commonwealth was slow, the gulf between Duncan’s enthusiasm and his ability was too large. Preston tried to remember all the safest routes through the Wasteland, but it seemed every turn had a threat that previously wasn’t there.  
Within a day of leaving Sanctuary they’d stumbled across a gruesome sight. An old police station, seemingly decorated with the corpses of ghouls and the occasional super mutant. Whatever was lurking behind those doors probably wasn’t friendly so Preston made to usher Duncan on.

 

“Halt, civilian.” Demanded a loud, authoritative voice that caused Preston to whip round, pushing Duncan behind him for safety, Dogmeat adopting a fight-ready stance. A tall man clad in Brotherhood of Steel power armor made his way towards the trio. “No need for alarm. The Brotherhood of Steel seeks to protect civilians from these mutant freaks.”

 

“Brotherhood?” Duncan queried. “Grandad says you’re a bunch of evil, no good sw-“

 

“What he means,” Preston interrupted, holding a hand over Duncan’s mouth to quiet him before they got in trouble “is we weren’t aware there was a ‘mutant problem’ round here.”

 

“There’s a mutant problem everywhere. I lost a knight, a dear friend, in an onslaught a few months back. This” he indicated the pile of ghoul corpses “is pay back”

 

“Grandad says you’re becoming like the-“ Duncan struggled around Preston’s grasp as Preston tried to stop the young loud mouth from angering the soldier.

 

“I just hope you remember the difference between ferals and civilians, soldier.” Preston replied, looking over at the corpses, some of which seemed a little too well clothed to have been a feral.

 

“We shot anything that posed a threat. Nothing more, nothing less.” The soldier replied, staring down Preston at the accusation.

 

Duncan didn’t get the ‘be intimidated’ memo. “Grandad says-“

 

“Your Grandad has a lot to say on the matter, doesn’t he?” The soldier snapped at Duncan, who silenced himself as he cowered behind Preston’s leg. “I would move along before you say something you regret.” Preston placed a protective arm around Duncan and a steadying hand on Duncan, who seemed to be preparing to pounce.

 

“Then we’ll do just that. Good day to you.” Preston sauntered off, trying to look as unfazed as possible while comforting a terrified child and holding back a pissed off Alsatian.

 

////////////

 

“Come on Zion, you can’t go racing off yet.” Butch pleaded, trying to force Zion back into bed.

 

“Like hell I can’t. That bastard has Duncan, and I’m not letting him get away with it.” Zion declared, grabbing his gear as Butch and Charon shared A Look.

 

For nearly a full week now this had been a daily routine. Zion tried to leave to find Duncan while his concerned friends tried to get him to recover a while longer. So far they’d won every argument, but Zion was a convincing and persistent man, and they had to agree he’d healed very well, much better and faster than they’d expected.

 

They doubted that they’d be able to wrestle him back into bed again.

 

“Running off while you’re still injured isn’t going to help him.” Butch insisted, stepping in front of Zion’s weapon stash, only to be picked up and spun out of the way.

 

“Then why don’t you go help him since you’re the picture of perfect health?” Zion snapped as he marched over to his trademark winterised T-51b power armour, only for Charon to block his path.

 

“Butch is right.” Charon said solemnly, but the look on his face betrayed his true feelings. He hated the thought of Duncan being in danger, the innocent child didn’t deserve whatever horrors awaited. Zion glared at Charon before staring Charon right in the eyes.

 

“Move aside, Charon.” Zion demanded, Charon doing as he was told. Zion despises treating Charon that way, but the large, terrifying ghoul couldn’t be so easily manhandled as Butch could. Charon obeyed orders from Zion, despite all the work Zion had done to try and get him to break the conditioning.

 

Now it was Butch’s turn to glare at Charon as Zion jumped into his power armor before storming to the front door and flinging it open, visibly jumping in surprise when he saw Fawkes stood the other side of it.

 

“You have no leads and you’re not fighting fit.” Fawkes informed Zion in his thunderous voice. “You should at least formulate a plan first.”

 

“The plan is to get to the Commonwealth and tear it apart piece by piece until I find Duncan. Now, let me out.” Zion tried to shove past the super mutant with little success, Fawkes simply pushed the small man back into the house.

 

“Listen to reason, Zion. Racing out and getting yourself killed will not help Duncan. At least think it through first, where to go, who you’ll need to talk to…” Fawkes lectured, Zion quickly getting very stressed.

 

“I’ve done worse with less planning! Duncan’s in danger and it’s my job to keep him safe!” He yelled, making everyone in the room jump as Zion tried to fight back tears. Butch placed a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder as they gave him a minute to compose himself. Finally, Charon spoke.

 

“Who took Duncan?” Charon asked with an almost official tone, like he was requesting further information on a mission rather than getting Zion to think clearly.

 

“A tall, sinister black man representing the Institute.” Zion responded with a light sniff.

 

“Where will he have taken Duncan?”

 

“Probably the Institute, I can’t imagine him coming all this way to cure Duncan just to kill him.”

 

“If he’s in the Institute, how will you get in?” Charon queried, causing Zion to stop for a minute to think of an answer.

 

“I... could probably use the whole ‘water purifier’ thing to at least get their attention. If that fails, I always have my friend; she could get us in no problem.”

 

“If he’s not in the institute, how will you find him?”

 

“Diamond City has a radio and a private detective. Between the two I’ll find him.”

 

“How are you gonna get there?”

 

“Directly. Via my bike.” Zion said with a slight, proud smile. He’d spent nearly seven years finding the parts for Moira to fix up an old motorbike to make it run on biofuels, and the freedom he felt riding the old thing was immense. The first ride he took it round the Capital Wasteland looking for polish.

 

Charon seemed pleased by the answers, nodding slightly and backing off. Butch also noticed this and turned to Zion pleadingly.

 

“You can’t go alone man! Us Tunnel Snakes ride or die together!” Zion sighed, shaking his head.

 

“Quickest way to Boston is through the Glowing Sea. The bike can’t take two suits of power armour Butch, you know that. I can’t risk you getting sick.”

 

“That’s why I’m going.” Charon butted in. Zion might have hated the reason Charon stuck around (his ‘contract’ binding him to servitude), but this was clearly a choice Charon was making, not an order he was following. From his demeanour Zion wasn’t sure he could even order Charon to stay behind.

  
  
Charon sure was improving.

 

“Right. Charon’s immune to the radiation, being a ghoul and all, and he’s a tough cookie. He’ll keep me safe, so you don’t have to worry Butch.”

 

But Butch didn’t seem so sure. He clearly wanted to go with, to help find Duncan as well, but even he had to repent and admit Charon was a better choice.

 

“Fine, but you better bring Duncan back safe, and RJ back for a good ass-kicking for making us all worry.” Butch huffed, Zion playfully punched him in the shoulder, forgetting he was wearing power armor and almost knocking Butch to the floor.

 

Charon has collected all his necessities and equipment and was already waiting by the door, next to a slightly fed up but “by-this-point-I-should-be-used-to-this” looking Fawkes. Without a word, just a quick exchanged glance, Charon went to start up the bike while Zion said his goodbyes.

 

As Fawkes and Butch watched Zion and Charon disappear into the distance, Fawkes decided to put in his two cents. “I guess what they say about history repeating itself is true then.”

 

Butch turned to him in confusion “What d’ya mean?”

 

“A child is lost in a Wasteland he has connections to, but is not his home, searching for a missing father, while a power armoured man on an old world vehicle upgraded for the new world seeks said child.”

 

Butch looked at Fawkes to say he hadn’t cleared anything up at all. Fawkes just chuckled softly. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s do something to entertain our minds away from our worry, Butch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a bit to say on this chapter, but I’ll put it on my Tumblr blog “of-wyrms-and-guns” for those interested.
> 
> Please do leave a comment I’d love to hear from you.


	9. Cait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preston has managed to get lost in Boston, so he seeks out someone to help him find his way

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Between detours, wrong turns and "I'm sure it was this way", Duncan and Preston managed to get to Boston within a week, yet got lost looking for Diamond City within the old ruins for a couple more days. Preston and Duncan tried to keep each other's spirits up but "We're not lost, we're just on an adventure!" only worked for so long before everyone was forced to admit that they were, well and truly, lost.

 

On the third day of their impromptu tour of Boston, Duncan was trying to lift Preston's spirits by recalling one of his favourite stories, complete with actions and sound effects. The coast had so far been clear, so Preston let him have his fun.

 

"We're going on a bear hunt, we're gonna catch a big one!" Duncan chanted for the umpteenth time. Preston recognised it as a pre-war story from the fact that it was 'bear' and not 'yaoi gui', but he didn't think 'a pile of feral ghoul corpses' would've been that major of a barrier back then.

 

"What a beautiful day!" Duncan continued, Preston felt sure it took some optimism to still shout it on a day it had already rained three times during, but he wouldn't be the one to put a damper on things. "We're not scared!"

 

"Ey, didja 'ear that?" came a slurred voice as Duncan darted behind Preston while Preston readied his gun. A very jolly and intoxicated raider rounded the corner supporting his equally drunk, but much quieter, friend. "We've got us a bear hunter!"

 

"Stay where you are." Preston demanded, lifting his gun to point at the louder raider's chest. The loud raider slowly raised a hand in cheerful surrender, leaning into his friend and almost toppling them both over.

 

"Dun want any trouble with the big brave bear hunters." He chuckled, flashing a smile at Duncan, who ducked further behind Preston's legs.

 

"Alright. Can you tell me which way to Diamond City?" Preston asked

 

"Nope!" The raider blurted out before howling in laughter. Preston impatiently shifted his gun to grab the raider's attention again. "Ok, ok, I can't. But someone over there might." The raider pointed round a corner before tottering into an old ruin just past Preston and Duncan, collapsing into an inebriated, giggling pile just inside the door.

 

Creeping round the corner, Preston saw what seemed to be some kind of drug den. Raiders, travellers, even merchants were getting high off their poison of choice; jet inhalers and empty psycho and med-x syringes littered the floor. Preston eyed the crowd for someone who seemed to be at least mostly on planet earth, keeping a hand on Duncan's back all the while. He eventually spotted a lass that seemed likely.

 

"Excuse me, ma'am." Preston asked, causing the women to whip around and glare at him.

 

"You don't look like you belong 'ere. Why don't you just tittle off?" She spat in an Irish accent.

 

"We're trying to. We want to get to Diamond City, but we've gotten lost." Preston replied, a little irked by the woman's manners, or lack thereof.

 

"Knew it. Likes of you don't end up here on purpose."

 

"I don't see you taking anything either." Preston countered.

 

"Cut me off, didn't they? First I lost my job at the combat zone, now I haven't 2 caps to rub together, never mind buy my next hit of psycho."

 

"We just need someone to point us in the right direction." Preston pushed again.

 

"And what do I get from it?"

 

"We'll go and get out of your hair."

 

The woman huffed loudly, but was visibly considering helping them out. Eventually, she sighed, pushing herself up. "Fine. I'll show you the way, but you owe me a favour."

 

Preston thanked her with a massive sense of relief, you could only pass the state house so many times before the very thought of ever passing it again filled you with dread.

 

They did quick introductions at the request of Preston, the woman begrudgingly revealing herself to be called Cait, a prior combatant at the Combat Zone, before they exited the drug den.

 

Or so they should've. Walking with a purpose down the street towards them like a growing shadow from a tall building came a familiar face. Raiders scattered as he passed, or went to confront him only to lose their guts one way or another as they got near. A grim reaper among men.

 

X6-88.

 

Preston had never seen this man before, but from Duncan's sudden panic and desire to flee he knew the man was trouble, however by the time Preston had realised the danger they were in, there was no time to run.

 

"Hand Duncan over and there will be no trouble." X6 instructed coolly, holding out a hand for emphasis. "I simply wish to take the child back to his father."

 

"Nice to meet you too." Cait joked, X6 shooting her a look that didn't deter her. "Oh, am I meant to be scared?"

 

"No, I think we're good, thanks." Preston answered X6, thankful that he'd kept his gun to hand in the den. Duncan was still clinging to his leg and whimpering in fear.

 

"If you refuse to comply, I'll have no choice but to use lethal force." X6 threatened, taking out his own laser rifle, institute issue rather than musket. Cait raised her fists in delight.

 

"Always happy to kick some synth arse." She muttered under her breath, flashing Preston a wicked grin. Preston took a deep breath, pushing Duncan backwards with his leg.

 

"Guess I only have one option then." Preston sneered, as he fired his trusty musket.

 

///////////////////

 

The sound of a fight brought some of the more feisty people running from the den eager to break as many noses as possible. What started as an energy weapon (and bare fists) firefight had devolved into a drug fuelled brawl, with Duncan pretty quickly getting lost within it all.

 

He couldn't see Preston or Cait at all, and he didn't like that. X6 was nowhere to be seen either, but that was neither a comfort or a discomfort.

 

Duncan squeezed his way back to the now mostly vacant den, a few high as a kite drugged up people looking up as the terrified, sniffling kid backed into a building clearly not meant for him. He knelt to the ground and burst into tears; he just wanted his dad, and it was causing so much trouble.

 

Dogmeat came bounding over to comfort Duncan despite clearly having a mouthful of blood, and none of it was his own. Throwing his arms around Dogmeat's neck, Duncan tried to dry his eyes on Dogmeat's warm fur while Dogmeat clearly enjoyed the attention.

 

Suddenly, Duncan heard his name being shouted from the rioting rabble, so he turned to see where it was coming from. Preston's face appeared through the crowd with a look of grim determination. Duncan half-heard, half-read the next word to cross his lips.

 

"Run!" Preston yelled, before disappearing once more into the crowd. Standing up with Dogmeat by his side, Duncan took one last look to where he'd last seen Preston, before running as fast as he could down the street, taking care not to go the way they'd came.

 

Duncan wished it wouldn't be the last time he saw Preston.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's Preston and Cait cashed out of the story, at least for now. Time will tell what the outcome of that fight was.
> 
> I recently realised that I haven't put many girls in my story yet, which is really ridiculous considering I am a girl. Better correct that in the next chapter ;)


	10. Piper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan finds a new ally in Boston's ruins, one who actually knows the way to Diamond City. But there's a catch.

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Knackered, hungry and scared, Duncan continued wandering Boston's ruins until the sun rose the next day, Dogmeat loyally following the small child. He wanted a bed. He wanted food.

 

He wanted his dad.

 

Eventually he flumped down on the steps outside an old house, unable to go any further. Dogmeat whined and curled up next to him, trying to offer a feeling of safety in a world gone mad.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Duncan spotted a flash of red wrapped around a woman probably no older than his grandad. She wore a funny hat and seemed to be focused on the notepad she held up in front of her. Unlike everyone else he'd seen in Boston, she didn't seem immediately hostile. Maybe she could help him.

 

He tried to catch her eye, but to no avail; she was too far in her own world and Duncan hadn't the energy to try harder. Dogmeat, on the other hand, still had enough drive to leap up and dash towards the woman.

 

She visibly jumped as the massive German shepherd filled her vision, spinning playfully and pawing at her legs. When she bent down to pet him, Dogmeat dashed back to Duncan, finally drawing her attention to him.

 

"Are you alright?" She asked quietly, bending down to look Duncan straight in the eyes with a soft, concerned expression. Duncan was too tired to answer, and just started sniffling in response. The woman pulled him into a hug to try and comfort him, but upon realising how tired he was, she picked him up and carried him towards home, Dogmeat following protectively.

 

////////////////////////////////

 

Ever since the whole 'MacDonough is a synth' incident, Piper was no longer welcome in Diamond City. No amount of shouting at the doors or trying to kick them in worked (although the latter did result in a broken toe). Since then she'd moved into an old printing shop in the ruins to continue her work, stopping every caravan going to or from Diamond City for news on Nat.

 

By the sounds of it, Nat had hidden the keys to the Publik and was being cared for by Mr Zwicky and Miss Edna. Piper hoped they were telling the truth and that Nat was staying out of trouble; the printing press could be rebuilt, but Nat... not so easily.

 

Now she was sat in the dingy old shop, watching an unfamiliar child wolf down cereal like his appetite was unending while his dog did the same with a bowl of spam. She didn't have large supplies of food, but the two looked like they needed it.

 

The child was very young and not very talkative, having given Piper his name and nothing else. He kept an eye on the door at all times, while the dog was much friendlier, accepting ear scratches with a waggy tail.

 

"So..." Piper tried to start a conversation awkwardly. "Did you come from far?" Duncan swallowed his last mouthful of food while considering whether to answer. Finally, he relented.

 

"Megaton." he answered plainly, but Piper was shocked. She'd heard of it from the Wasteland Survival Guide; roughly south/central of the Capital Wasteland. How'd a child travel that far alone?

 

"Here to see the sights? I'll warn you now, most of the locals aren't too fond of 'tourists'" Piper joked, but the child either didn't find the humour or understand the joke.

 

"Looking for dad." Duncan answered simply. Not much for conversation, at least with strangers or when he was tired. But being a child lost in Boston was not a safe occupation.

 

"Aww, sorry to hear that. But! I do know someone who specialises in getting lost kids home again, maybe we should go see him." Piper suggested, yet the offer did have an ulterior motive. Surely the Diamond City guards would let in a lost child, even if it meant letting in an exiled reporter...

 

"I'm not supposed to go places with strangers." Duncan responded, but with a look of guilt. He must have travelled here with the help of strangers, so where were they? How could they leave a four year old alone?

 

"Well, that's fair I guess, but haven't you already crossed that line? You're in my house, eating my food." Piper scoffed, Duncan looking away sheepishly with the same expression that Nat held whenever Piper asked who'd had the last bag of cheesy poofs. She felt her stomach drop at the resemblance, and her voice went soft. "Look, I just want to help you, alright? My friend in Diamond City's really good, he'll find your dad in no time, then you won't have to rely on stranger any more." At the mention of Diamond City, Duncan perked up.

 

"You know the way?" he asked hopefully. Seems like he already had something of a plan of his own.

 

"Yeah, it's not too far from here. But it's getting late, we should probably leave in the morning." Piper replied, Duncan looked crestfallen but his exhaustion gave him away. They could've made it before it got dark, but he was far too tired to travel tonight. "Do we have a plan?"

 

"Yeah, I guess." Duncan replied. Piper felt a surge of excitement, the thought of getting back into Diamond City again was exhilarating, even if it was just for as long as she could muster from MacDonough.

 

"You'll like it in Diamond City, my little sister Nat would probably love to meet you too. And, my work as a journalist means I could easily get the story of you looking for your dad all around the Commonwealth. We'll find him, don't you worry." Piper wasn't joking about Nat wanting to meet him. Piper knew without a doubt, anyone with enough guts to traverse Boston with just a dog would impress Nat.

 

"What's a 'jer-nal-ist'?" Duncan asked.

 

"Oh, um, I'm a writer? I write stories for people to read about what's going on in the Commonwealth." Piper replied. Of course a four year old wouldn't know what a journalist is. But by this point Duncan was non-stop yawning; Piper could see in his face that it wasn't long before he fell asleep on the table.

 

She set about making up a make-shift bed for him on the sofa: plenty of cushions to make it seem soft, a spare blanket to keep him warm, and old-world clothes she'd been planning to pawn off to the next trader were now being used as a pillow of sorts. It... wasn't appealing, but Duncan was curled up in it almost immediately regardless.

 

"Alright, sleep tight. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow." Piper said with a smile, Duncan smiling back before it turned almost sheepish. "Something wrong?"

 

"You said you write stories, right? Can you tell me one?" He asked sweetly. Piper didn't know how to respond to that. The stories she wrote would likely give him nightmares, but her hesitation was already making him sad.

 

She used to read Nat bedtime stories when she was younger. Piper would find old children's books while searching for a story, or see them being sold by traders, and would take them home for Nat. They both enjoyed the stories and the time spent together.

 

Nat claimed she'd outgrown the stories about a year ago, but Piper had read and re-read some of the stories so many times she was certain she could recall enough of one and wing the rest.

 

Pulling over a seat, she smiled warmly at Duncan. "Alright, this is called 'Peace At Last.'" She started, Duncan giving her his rapt attention as long as he could before drifting off to sleep. "The hour was late. Mr Bear was tired, Mrs Bear was tired, and Baby Bear was tired..."

 

///////////////////////////

 

Piper stayed up late to write about what she'd gathered about Duncan. Children went missing all the time, but for a 4 year old to be that far away from home, especially with a dog called Dogmeat. There was certainly a story to be had there, she just had to find it.

 

Duncan hadn't managed to stay awake for most of the story, but Piper has felt obligated to finish it regardless, before dropping the lock on the door. She hadn't wanted to scare him earlier by locking him in an unfamiliar house, however, it needed to be locked to keep raiders out. Her own bed beckoned before long however. It was a big day tomorrow.

 

///////////////////////////////

 

Piper woke up early and snuck to the front door to unlock it. She didn't want Duncan to run away yet she knew had she been in his shoes, an unlocked door was a strange comfort in a stranger's house. Next on the agenda was breakfast. Her cupboards were a little bare but she had some leftover fried meat from lunch yesterday. It should taste fine after reheating, well, as fine as brahmin meat gets.

 

The smell woke up both Duncan and Dogmeat, who'd curled up at Duncan's feet during the night. Within seconds both of them were stood next to Piper, watching the food heat up. Piper ruffled Duncan's hair before serving up the meat. Realising that reheated meat couldn't really pass as a meal on its own, she threw a couple of mutfruit on the plate too. Sorted.

 

A plate (sans fruit) went on the floor for Dogmeat, the other two placed on the table, one for Duncan and one for Piper. If nothing else, Duncan seemed to get the idea of knives and forks, which was more than could be said for some wastelanders, but he wasn't particularly skilled with them yet, trying in vain to shop up the meat. Piper eventually stepped in to cut it up into bite size chunks, receiving a somewhat embarrassed 'thank you' in return.

 

A quick clean up after breakfast was finished, and Piper started packing a backpack. She hadn't exactly planned to be exiled from Diamond City, so she didn't have anything at her current residence that she'd be sad to lose, but taking a blanket and as much ammo as she could carry had never done her wrong before.

 

The journey to Diamond City was uneventful, although Duncan was amazed at how close they'd been. Piper got the impression he'd been lost a while, which just made how long he stayed alive all the more impressive.

 

Before getting to the gates, Piper took Duncan aside to have a word, crouching down in front of him to speak eye-to-eye.

 

"Listen, I'm... not exactly welcome in Diamond City. I was hoping that I could use the whole 'lost child' thing to help get me back into the city to see my little sister. Even is that doesn't work, they'll probably let you in anyway. You cool with the plan?"

 

Duncan thought it over before asking. "Why aren't you allowed in?" Piper quickly tried to think of a reason that wouldn't worry or scare Duncan since 'I exposed the mayor as a synth' would probably scare a kid away from a city.

 

"I wrote a story the city's mayor didn't agree with." Piper settled on, although the story sounded a little flat.

 

"That's not a good enough reason!" Duncan protested. "Grandad and Dad disagree a lot but Grandad always welcomes us into his home."

 

"I think I'm gonna like you, kid." Piper smiled, standing up and taking Duncan's hand in hers. The doors were closed as always so she walked up to the speaker box.

 

"Hey Danny, did you miss me?" She asked almost flirtily and received a resigned sigh in response.

 

"Piper, you know you're not welcome in Diamond City any more. You need to leave before you cause a problem." Came the reply. Piper gave a fake pout to Duncan.

 

"Yeah, but this time I've got a counter argument."

 

"Which is?"

 

"I've found a lost child." Piper replied with a smirk, waving her hands over Duncan, a gesture that was lost since there were no surveillance cameras. "Say hi to Danny, Duncan."

 

"Hi Danny!" Duncan projected down the speaker box.

 

"How do we know he's not just a friend's kid you've borrowed to try and make your way into the city?" Danny asked.

 

"You really think I have friends outside of the city? Aw, you must think highly of me after all." Piper teased.

 

"Well, we're not falling for it." Danny instructed with an air of finality.

 

"Fine! Lets' just send a four year old out into the wasteland on his own. I'm sure he won't be eaten by deathclaws, cause the ghouls and the super mutants will have gotten to him first!" Piper raged down the speaker before turning to Duncan while staying close to the speaker. "Sorry Duncan, looks like you're on your own again."

 

Duncan started to feel a little panicked. "But you said..."

 

"Fine!" Danny's voice came through the speakers. "We'll let you in, but behave this time, Piper."

 

Hydraulics hissed, gears whirled, and the metal covering was lifted with a groan from the entrance to the city. With a reassuring smile and a wink, Piper led Duncan into the city he'd been searching for for so long.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Said I'd add a female character, finally. Also anyone else notice that I'm using this as an excuse to reference all my favourite children's books? Wonder what will be next...
> 
> Please do leave a comment or a like if you're enjoying the story, or if you're not. I appreciate feedback. And don't forget I also have a tumblr blog, of-wyrms-and-guns, if you'd rather send me an ask, or if you want to know when the next chapter is posted.


	11. Diamond City, At Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan's finally made it to Diamond City, but the city was less the goal than the detective supposedly found there.

They hadn't gotten five metres through the door before they were confronted by a very fat, very pissed off looking man. Mayor McDonough stood to the forefront, but clearly a single reporter was so dangerous to him that he required 3 guards to stand behind, ready with weapons. Piper placed herself between Duncan and McDonough, ready to rise to the challenge his face had set.

"Piper, I'd hoped you wouldn't 'grace' our fine city ever again after what you wrote about me." McDonough spat. Unperturbed, Piper sneered back.

"Can't keep me away from the truth, McDonough. I'll find what you're hiding. But right now I've more important business to attend to." Piper indicated Duncan before walking off, head high and unfazed. Duncan glanced back to see McDonough scowling at him, making Duncan feel relieved for Dogmeat's reassuring presence.

Something about Diamond City struck Duncan as familiar. It had a somewhat Megaton aesthetic (sans nuclear bomb) with the high walls and scrap metal houses, and the air that people around them were barely scraping by, yet were pleased for the rickety roofs in place of an atomic sky. People were shooting them looks, some of surprise or confusion, while others were just mucky looks.

"Piper!" Came a loud, excited squeal, Duncan and Piper both turning to see a twelve year old girl running towards Piper, arms open for a hug.

"Nat!" Piper shouted in reply, letting go of Duncan's hand and racing forward to embrace her little sister; the world might as well have been dead around them. Hearing the commotion, a security guard in sunglasses came to check it out, before turning to Duncan with a smile.

"Ah, don't reuinions just warm your heart?" The guard asked blissfully, causing Duncan to turn away. He wanted nothing more than such a reunion with his dad, but it seemed he'd have to wait his turn.

Eventually the sisters let go of each other and Piper turned to finally introduce Duncan. "Nat, this is Duncan, he's looking for his dad. Duncan, this is my little sister Nat." Nat held her hand out to Duncan. He took it warily yet Nat shook it with quite some vigour.

"Nice to meet you Duncan! Hope you find your dad."

"We're gonna go see Nick, see if he can help out. You wanna come with us?" Piper asked, but Nat suddenly looked a little awkward.

"That'll be a problem. Nick's been missing almost as long as you were." Nat explained, Piper looking shocked. "You should talk to Ellie. I'll take your bag back to the Publik!" Nat eagerly took Piper's backpack and headed towards home, stopping to tickle Dogmeat's ears first.

Piper led Duncan through Diamond City to a little shack in a back alley, sporting a custom, but unlit, neon sign for 'Valentine Detective Agency'. Piper let herself in without knocking, rushing over to another young woman whose face seemed scarred with worry.

"Is it true? Is Nick missing?" Piper demanded, causing the woman (Ellie according to Nat) to jump in surprise. She hadn't heard Piper enter.

"Afraid so. He went to investigate Park Street Station for a missing girl, Dala, and hasn't retuned. That was months ago too..." Ellie informed Piper, tears starting to prick at her eyes. Piper awkwardly tried to comfort her as best as she could. Eventually, Ellie looked up and noticed Duncan stood quietly; he only half-understood the situation. "Who's this Piper? You haven't introduced us?"

"This is Duncan. He's lost his dad, I was hoping Nick could help track him down but... I guess I'll need a different plan." Duncan was getting sick of all these changes now. Between the raiders, losing Preston and now this change, Duncan was fed up. All he wanted was to find his dad and go home. Was it too much to ask?

"I'm sorry to hear that sweetie, but I can't do anything, Nick's the one you'll need for a case like that." Ellie tried to sympathise, but Duncan had had enough and stormed out the door without a word, Dogmeat in tow. Piper quickly apologised to Ellie and rushed after him.

"Duncan! Stop!" Piper yelled, Duncan turned around to face her before flopping on the floor. Piper sat down next to him with a sigh. "I know its frustrating, but we have to keep trying. We'll find your dad, I promise." Piper wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in with a tight squeeze. She had a few ideas how to go about finding Duncan's elusive dad, but the most pressing one was trying to find Nick to get his help. Everything else, like asking Travis to broadcast it or writing an article on it, would take too much time and require too much luck. Nick could seek the man out at the source, while the other methods relied on Duncan's dad seeing the story or hearing it on the radio. It wasn't worthwhile unless they could track him down.

The look on Duncan's face made Piper think he could do with some downtime to unwind from all that had happened before they went rushing off, especially if the plan just led to another dead end, so they headed back to the Publik. Nat was waiting for them outside and upon seeing Duncan's dejected face she gave them both a look of pity.

"Told you so." Nat said simply with only the bare minimum teasing associated with the phrase. Piper gave her a sad smile.

"Looks like that plan's on hold for now." Piper told them, stopping short after her attention was quickly diverted towards the lift to the the mayor's office. A shady character, obviously trying to not be seen, was heading up to the office. Nat made a sound somewhere between a sigh and an excited titter; Piper turning towards her in a hushed tone. "That could just be the lead I'm looking for, Nat! I need to check it out! Look, take Duncan in and keep yourselves amused, I need to check this out." With that, Piper snuck off to tail the man. Nat opened the door to the Publik and ushered Duncan in.

It was nice, if a bit dusty. It hadn't been lived in all the time Piper was away, but beneath the dust and grime it was quite cosy. "Sorry about Piper, she's certain the Mayor is working for the bad guys and she wants to prove it." Nat joked, loudly enough for Piper to hear if she was stood outside the front door, before she grabbed Duncan and pulled him into her bedroom, quickly shutting the door and leaving a very miffed Dogmeat to wait outside.

"You wanna find Valentine so you can find your dad, right?" Nat asked in a conspirational, hushed tone. Duncan nodded with an air of suspicion. "I wanna help."

"Do you know where he is?" Duncan asked hopefully. Nat nodded vigorously.

"He went to Park Street Station, which you can enter near Swan's Lake. I've heard rumours that the gangsters holed up there are led by a guy called Skinny Malone. I've also heard that he's got a 'flair for the dramatic', so he'll probably have captured Nick, not killed him. That's where we'll find him." Nat looked very proud of her information gathering, so Duncan gave her a short round of applause before asking about her plan. "We'll sneak out of Diamond City using a hole in the wall Piper found ages ago. We'll head to Park Street, I have a map so we won't get lost, and we'll sneak in and break Mister Valentine out. Sound good to you?"

Duncan felt like he'd done enough sneaking to last a lifetime, but Nat was so excited that he'd feel bad letting her down. Besides, this would mean he'd find his dad more quickly, a positive result all around.

He agreed, both to see Nat smile, and to see his dad again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Duncan, I'd feel fed up to if some fanfic author kept writing about my plans getting screwed over.
> 
> The next chapter is gonna be a long one, hope you're buckled in and ready.


	12. Malone’s Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nat and Duncan go looking for Nick

Nat sure liked to natter; all the way from Diamond City she kept Duncan and Dogmeat entertained with stories about her sister, on the promise that during the journey home Duncan would tell her stories about his dad. They reached the park in relatively good time, but the signs all over the entrance made Duncan pause. He was a half-decent reader, all the time spent sick in bed with nothing to do but read or be read to meant he was a little ahead for his age, so when he read 'Danger!' or 'Warning!', he knew he should stay away.

Nat noticed his hesitation but didn't share it. “Come on, if we move quietly we won't disturb Swan” Still Duncan didn't move so Nat took to teasing. “What, are you chicken?”

“I'm not chicken!” Duncan snapped, stomping his foot, but one look at the signs made him halter again. Nat started clucking at him, which infuriated him further. “I'm not a chicken!” He yelled angrily, and was answered with a muffled roar. Both Nat and Duncan turned towards the source: a lake, now bubbling, situated in the centre of the park. Nat grabbed Duncan's arm and pulled him through the gates, both running as fast as they could towards the entrance they were looking for, Dogmeat close on their heels, yet for all their speed they still saw Swan emerge.

Duncan had obviously seen Super Mutants before, but uncle Fawkes looked nothing like the monstrosity that rose from the lake: deformed, discoloured and devilish, the face a picture of twisted horror and the body coated in the mangled make-shift armour of peddle boats. Duncan was glad for the escape down Park Street Station.

Once inside and far enough away from the doors the two of them slumped onto the ground to catch their breath, Dogmeat standing guard. When they finally felt ready to continue, Duncan turned to Nat “How are we going to find mister Valentine?” Nat smiled and opened her backpack to reveal an old hat.

“It's Nick's, it'll smell of him. We'll see if Dogmeat can follow the smell to him!” Nat stated with a sense of certainty that Duncan didn't share so he gave her a disapproving look. They didnt' even know if Dogmeat could track scents, yet she'd dragged him through all this without thinking to check? He hoped she was right.

Nat waved the hat under Dogmeat's nose until he started sniffing it, his tail starting to wag happily. He bounced to his paws and went to follow the scent, impatiently stopping and bounding back to check the kids were following.

Duncan avoided Nat's smug look. She was right about Dogmeat, but she could've been wrong. She should've been wrong just to teach her a lesson, he felt.

//////////////////////////////////

Piper left the office feeling extremely disgruntled. For some strange reason they hadn't let her in to question the stranger, which she'd expected. What she didn't expect was for the stranger to vanish off the face of the earth s she couldn't confront them as they left. She headed back to the Publik empty handed, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

“Nat, Duncan, I'm back.” Piper called out, only to be met with silence. When dealing with children, Piper had found that silence was always a bad sign. She quickly checked every room, and every nook and cranny of every room, for them, but still nothing. Now she was getting very worried as she grabbed her gun and headed out to question people.

Some of the guards had seen them, but most were no help. Piper got sent from one side of Diamond City to another until she'd had enough and just asked the nearest people, however they were still of little help. Eventually someone said they'd thought they'd seen Nat and Duncan head towards where the gaping hole in the wall was, the one that had once been covered by one cupboard but thanks to Piper's hard work and determination now had 2 cupboards covering it.

Upon reaching the spot Piper's worst fears were realised. They'd been moved just enough to let the children through. But why'd they leave? What could they be searching for?

Oh. Nick Valentine. But why would Nat go there? Despite Duncan's sweet nature, Piper was convinced that he would brave the journey and the station if it meant finding his dad, but there's no way he could convince Nat to go unless she wanted to. Unless, Piper started to think with dread, Nat was trying to follow in Piper's footsteps.

That had to be stopped before she got herself killed, Piper thought as she raced out of the city, trying to remember the quickest route to Park Street Station.

/////////////////////

With every corridor passed through and every guard avoided, Dogmeat proved himself to be the ultimate Good Boy; he wasn't just tracking Nick but actively avoiding anyone that could harm the kids. If they couldn't be avoided, Dogmeat could find them somewhere to hide to wait it out until the coast was clear.

It was far from a fast rescue but it sure was a safe one. Nat made a mental note to give Dogmeat extra treats later, while Duncan settled for extra ear scratches now. Dogmeat strongly appreciated both.

Both Nat and Duncan were surprised when the old station became an old vault, but still Dogmeat pressed on, so they followed. They'd both heard of the vaults; Piper liked to tell Nat horror stories about them to keep her away, while Zion liked to tease Butch in front of Duncan with stories of their childhood in vault 101. Neither child expected the vault to be so... empty. No skeletons, no dangerous animals or experiments, no vault dwellers... just gangsters.

When they came upon an extremely open room, Dogmeat kept them back with a quiet snarl. From above them they could just to say make out a conversation between the triggerman's thick accent and the glass muffling the other man.

“...like that. Got himself killed, listening to you so often. You won't get me though, nosiree.”

“Comforting thought. Guess I'll just stay here another half year, shall I?”

“You'll stay as long as Skinny says you stay, y'hear?”

“I'm just shaking in my boots. Why don't we just make this easy on each other, you go away so I can hack this console again.”

“Good luck. I have the passcode in my pocket and you'll never get it. Unfortunately for you, I have other business to attend to, so I can't stay and chat. Keep yourself entertained a while, will ya?” The man laughed as his footsteps gradually echoed quieter and quieter.

“Not like I have a choice.” Came the grumbled reply. Nat turned to Duncan with a bright smile on her face.

“This is our chance!” She whispered, pushing Duncan towards the window the men had been speaking through. “You go talk to Nick, I'll keep watch.”

Duncan didn't like the sound of that plan at all, but arguing with Nat didn't seem like it'd work. Gathering his courage he walked to the window and peered inside. A man sat facing the other way, chin on his hand and a trench coat spread messily across the back of the chair. Duncan lightly knocked on the window, causing the man to turn and look towards Duncan, who gave a small yelp in surprise.

Parts of the man's face was missing. Not the normal nose or eyes but chunks of flesh, exposing metal endoskeleton and wires. His eyes glowed a strangely comforting yellow and what had appeared to be a full hand from a distance looked more like a skeleton's now. The man spotted Duncan with a look of disbelief and made his way over to the window, knealing to be at eye level.

“Are you mister Valentine?” Duncan asked, voice shaking. The man gave a comforting smile to try and ease Duncan's nerves.

“Yeah, but call me Nick. Now, what's a brave young adventurer like you doing here, looking for me?”

“I'm looking for my dad.” Duncan repeated for what felt like the umpteenth time.  
“Well, he's not here with me. Guessing you want my help to find him, though.” Nick suggested, Duncan nodding vigorously. Nat, her station as lookout apparently forgotten, came to join them. “Nat's here? I thought either you or your sister would be involved in this.” Nat beamed from ear to ear. “Is Piper here too, then?”

“No, we're here to save you ourselves!” Nat declared proudly.

“Well, rather you get chewed out by Piper for this than me.” Nick pointed out and suddenly Nat's bravado disappeared as she realised he was telling the truth. She was so grounded for this. “'Fraid you've come to a dead end though. Door's locked tight, only the sentry has the key.”

“I could try and take it.” Duncan offered, Nat and Nick turning to him with uncertain looks. “I've seen dad and uncle Butch practice.”

“No, it's too risky. Listen, I need you to go back to Diamond City and find some adults to handle this.” Nick instructed. Nat started to protest but Nick cut her off. “I can't risk you getting hurt. Tell them where I am and let someone else deal with it this time.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Came a loud, angry screech that caused all three of them to jump. The sentry had returned, gun drawn and pointed at the kids, switching between them in wild disbelief. They froze in fear despite Nick yelling to run, and time seemed to slow down as the sentry put it all together.

He reached to grab Nat as she tried to back away, but something grabbed him first. Something large, tan and black and surprisingly quiet clamped two jagged rows of daggers around his arm. Screaming in surprise the sentry threw Dogmeat off. He quickly tried to aim his gun but Dogmeat was faster, sinking his teeth into the man's leg with a sickening crunch. The man swore loudly, but the flash off pain gave Dogmeat the distraction he needed to yank the man to the floor. Now Dogmeat had the upper paw and the man was doomed. In one small bound Dogmeat had all his weight on the man's chest and his jaws around the man's throat.

Nat grabbed Duncan and pulled him close so he couldn't see what happened, but he heard the sickening crunch of bone and desperate gurgles, then another crunch and silence. It stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity, only for Nick to break it.

“Nice to see you're still looking out for people, partner.” He breathed, pointedly talking to a panting but proud looking Dogmeat.

Nat let go of Duncan and tentatively made her way over to the sentry's corpse to look for the key while Duncan embraced Dogmeat. He thought the sentry was gonna shoot him and Nat, and when Dogmeat jumped in the man clearly meant to shoot Dogmeat instead. Duncan didn't want to lose Dogmeat, he was such a good friend.

When Duncan pulled away from Dogmeat he noticed they were both now covered in the blood of the sentry. The problems you face when you're friends with a guard dog.

A gentle but strangely mechanic hand was placed on Duncan's shoulder. Looking up, Duncan saw Nick giving a small, understanding smile.

“Come on kid, let's get you home.” Nick reached down and picked up the compliant Duncan, Dogmeat immediately standing up to get a better view of his friend. Nat took the other side of Nick, her sense of excitement and adventure seemingly gone after looking down the barrel of a gun.  
They didn't get far. As soon as they reached the entrance to the vault night on the entire gang had gathered, guns pointing lazily but ready in the direction of Nick. They halted, Nat ducking behind Nick and Duncan being set on the ground to do the same. Dogmeat got ready to pounce while Nick tried to calm him with a quiet 'easy, boy'.

One gangster stepped forwards, a large man wielding a machine gun. As he did so, a woman in a sparkly dress wielding a bat stepped up behind him.

“Nicky, what're you doin'? Is my home not good enough for you that you set a dog on my sentry?” The man complained in a thick Chicago accent.

“I only came to find your dame, Skinny, and tell her to write home more. Now I'll be leaving.” No sooner had Nick finished than the mobsters behind Skinny raised their guns to be better prepared to shoot, but Skinny waved for them to put the guns down a little.

“I told you we should've just killed him, but you had to get all sentimental.” Croned the woman in the sequin dress. Skinny turned to her with an annoyed look.

“Darla, I'm handling this! Skinny Malone's always got things under control.” He responded like a whining child.

Out of the corner of his eye, Duncan noticed a flash of red past all the legs of the gangsters, trying to creep past to provide a hand. Piper! She must have followed them. Man, they were gonna be in so much trouble for this.

“Should've left it alone, Nicky.” Skinny boasted as Nick drew his gun. He was outnumbered and outgunned, but be damned if he was going to go out fighting. “This ain't the old neighbourhood. In this Vault, I'm king of the castle, you hear me? And I want your execution.”

A shot fired.

But it came from neither Nick nor Skinny, but from the back of the crowd. The crowd parted for Skinny to see who had fired the shot prematurely, accidentally revealing Piper as they did so, yet no one paid her any heed.

The man threw the gun, taken from the corpse of a triggerman, to the floor in the parting of the crowd.

“If this is your castle, I'm not impressed. Your defences are sub-standard.” The voice was almost cocky yet it tried to keep the unsettling, monotonous tone as always.  
Duncan knew who it was without looking.

“What? Who the fuck are you?” Skinny demanded, all guns now pointed at X6-88, who only smirked as he drew his own laser rifle.

“Your worst nightmare.” X6 boasted, as he shot Skinny clean through the chest. All hell broke loose as gangsters tried in vain to take revenge, but X6 was considerably smarter and faster than them, and aided by stealth technology he'd disappeared quickly, taking them out one at a time.

Seeing the opportunity to flee, Nick grabbed Duncan and ran towards Piper, Nat and Dogmeat in tow. Piper grabbed Nat and the five of them made their way out of the vault, the terrified and pained screams of the gangsters still echoing behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I work with and I’m best friends with a guard dog, so I feel like Dogmeat growling when hostiles are around is completely false. If an old loudmouth Rottweiler can silently deal with threats, a young Alsatian can do it no problem.
> 
> I’m taking a couple of weeks off over the holidays since I won’t have access to my laptop for that time. Hope everyone has a good time. I might upload the chapters I missed once I get back, we’ll see.


	13. Moving forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nick tries to find a lead to find Duncan’s dad

They traversed Boston as quickly as possible, keeping to shadows and safe routes, making it back to Diamond City so quickly it could've set a record, if only Piper hadn't made the same, reverse journey earlier.

Seething with anger, but disguising it under a genuine wave of relief, Piper held her tongue about how irresponsible Nat had been. Now wasn't the time, she could tell Nat was still upset and there was plenty of time to think of a punishment before setting it out. Moreover, Piper didn't want Nat to see just how worried she'd been, and telling her sister off now might just start both of their waterworks.

Duncan stayed silent out of terror and shock. How had X6 found them? Did that mean Preston was... He couldn't think about it. Despite wanting to comfort him, Nick could tell Duncan wasn't up for talking and he wasn't about to push it.

Once through the gates, plenty of people seemed to have something to say, mostly “Is that really Nick?” and “So you found them then?”. Neither Nick nor Piper felt inclined to stay and chat though. Piper took Nat back to the Publik, while Nick, Duncan and Dogmeat carried on to the detective agency.

The door was as squeaky as he'd remembered it, giving Ellie plenty of warning that they were entering. Her eyes widened as Nick rounded the door and the papers she'd been holding fell to the floor. “Nick? Is that really you?” She asked, making her way slowly over to him in disbelief before throwing her arms around him in a tight hug, Duncan stuck in the middle of it.

“Well, you're not gonna mistake this mug for anyone else, are you?” Nick joked, giving Ellie a one-handed hug back before letting go and setting Duncan on the floor. Duncan tried to stay close to the door, but Dogmeat happily trotted further in and layed full length on the floor, making Duncan feel a little more settled, since clearly Dogmeat didn't feel he was in any danger.

Ellie fussed over Nick, pointing out new scruffs and dings, while Nick tried to wave her off and set up the agency to ask Duncan questions that could lead to his father. Piper snuck in while the two were still fussing, Duncan sticking close to her. As nice as Nick and Ellie were, Piper was more familiar and Duncan felt more comfortable with her around.

“Piper, are you sure you should be here? Nat looked a little shaken by her adventure.” Nick asked, causing Duncan to grab Piper's leg to make her stay. She put n arm around his shoulders.

“I think Duncan wants me to stay. Besides, listening in will mean I can write a more accurate story, and that might just help you find Duncan's dad. Nat shut herself in her room anyway, I think she needs a little peace, it's been quite the day.”

“That it has. Do you wanna come over and sit on this seat, Duncan? I'll ask you some questions so we can find your dad easier.” Nick asked, patting the seat across the desk from the seat he went to sit in himself. Duncan climbed onto it with some hesitation while Ellie passed him a cup of water and an emergency teddy bear from their stash in the back. Dogmeat sensed Duncan's discomfort and moved closer to Duncan, sitting between Duncan and Ellie. Piper took up a spot on his other side.

“So Duncan, why don't you tell me a little about yourself before we start. Where do you and your dad live?” Nick asked.

“On a farm.” Duncan answered rather unhelpfully.

“Is the farm near any major settlements?” Nick pressed, but Duncan only shrugged. Piper piped up.

“Didn't you say before you were from Megaton?” Piper asked Duncan, who turned to her.

“Yeah, that's where I came from, but me and dad live on a farm.” Duncan insisted.

“So what's with Megaton?” Piper asked, a little befuddled by Duncan's insistence on wording.

“Grandad lives there. I stayed with grandad while I was sick.”

“How did you end up so far away from home then?” Nick asked. Duncan took a deep breath, then told everyone all that happened. About how he woke up to find himself with X6, how the nice people on the boat helped him escape and the Captain planned to take him to Nick, only for the raiders to slaughter everyone on the boat and take him captive. He described Preston, how cool he'd found him and how nice he was, and their daring escape from the raiders. He spoke fondly of Sanctuary and Codsworth and meeting Dogmeat (although he guiltily left out the running away part, and fearfully skipped over their meeting with the Brotherhood). He vented his frustration over being lost in Boston for days, and the short lived relief of meeting Cait and her promise to lead them to Diamond City.

He shivered in fear as he told them how he'd come face to face with X6 once more and he came close to tears as he recalled how he and Preston were separated, and how he ran through Boston until he could run no more. Then there was nothing left to tell.

Ellie and Piper had been furiously scribbling throughout the entire story while Nick comforted Duncan. He made sure to tell him how brave he was, and reassure him that he was safe now. Nick turned to Piper while Duncan was distracted and quietly asked “How did the courser find him in the vault?”

“He must have followed me. I wasn't exactly covering my tracks while running through the ruins in a blind panic.” Piper replied, trying to put some humour behind the dark words. X6 likely knew where Duncan was now, and given the reputation of coursers and what little they'd seen of his abilities it seemed a little too hopeful to think the triggermen had taken him down.

“Alright Duncan, now I need to ask you a few questions about your dad. Are you alright to continue?” Nick asked softly, but Duncan's entire face brightened at the prospect of talking about his dad.

“He's the coolest!” Duncan announced proudly, Nick chuckling in response.

“I'm sure he is. Do you know his name? Beyond 'dad' that is.” Nick asked, but Duncan looked a little confused. His dad's name was dad, what other name would he have?

“Grandad calls him RJ. Or mungo.” Duncan offered.

“Do you know what he does for work?” Nick asked. It might be a better starting point.

“Umm, not really. He uses his gun. He's really good with it!” Duncan offered, but that only eliminated a small portion of the population. Meanwhile Piper had another idea.

“Duncan, what's your full name? You know, like I'm Piper Wright, he's Nick Valentine, you're Duncan...?”

“MacCready.” Duncan answered, unsure as to why it mattered what his name was. A light seemed to turn on in Nick's head.

“You know a MacCready, Nick?” Piper asked. Nick hummed, a little unsure.

“We've... made acquaintance. There's a sniper mercenary in Goodneighbour called Robert MacCready, supposedly from the Capital. It can't be a coincidence but...” Nick hesitated, looking to Duncan before looking back at Piper. “That MacCready's pretty young. I wouldn't peg him as a father.”

Duncan was almost bouncing with excitement. “Can we check it out? Please?” Duncan pleaded. Nick glanced at Piper, who just grinned back.

“Well, Goodneighbour isn't exactly somewhere I'd usually take a four year. I guess we'll just have to be careful.” Nick announced to which Duncan leapt from his seat to embrace Nick. “We'll need a plan.”

“I'll ask Travis to put the news out. Who knows? Maybe his dad is listening. Then the three of us will head out first tomorrow, okay?”

“And Dogmeat.” Duncan pointed out.

“Of course.” Piper tittered, tickling Dogmeat's ears before leaving. She hoped Duncan's dad was a dog person, the two seemed too attached at this point and Piper didn't want to see any reunion tainted with Duncan having to say goodbye to Dogmeat.

///////////////////////

Across the Commonwealth, radios still with life in them ended their songs as Travis made an announcement.

“Uh uhm, s-so I've got a message here. Um, I-I was asked to it out. So uh, here-here goes. Um, 'RJ MacCready, if you're hearing this, your son Duncan is looking for you. Don't worry, he's safe, but he really misses you. We have an idea where you might be, so please meet us where you think that'll be'.”

“Um, that's a little...cryptic. I hope they find each other.” Travis then muttered under his breath to the entire Commonwealth “Knowing this world, they probably won't.”

/////////////////

In a bombed out shell of a house, lit by a lamp and the fading lights in the radio, Preston finally let out a sigh of relief. At the very least Duncan was safe and on his way to find his dad again.

The fight had been brutal; the courser couldn't be taken down but had no problem taking down everyone else instead. Eventually Preston and Cait had no choice but to retreat to tend to their wounds. The confusion in the battle made them initially believe that X6 hadn't seen them, but Preston felt it was more the case that X6 was more interested in getting Duncan than killing Preston or Cait.

The guilt of having left Duncan alone in Boston had weighed far too heavily after that realisation, but knowing Duncan hadn't fallen into the hands of the institute or raiders lifted the weight a little.

“So what was it that you needed doing again?” Preston asked Cait, eager to repay his debt.

////////////////////////////

Meanwhile, in a radioactive wasteland barely on the boarders of the signal reach of Diamond City radio, Zion and Charon were staring at each other in disbelief. The location of Duncan had just be handed to them on a silver platter; the place the radio meant could only be the Third Rail in Goodneighbour, the bar MacCready always stayed at to search for jobs in the Commonwealth.

They'd found an old fallout bunker to spend the night and had been setting up camp, listening to the static filled, barely audible radio when the message came over. The two shared a grim, knowing look. If they pulled an all nighter they could make it to Goodneighbour for early the next morning.

Zion didn't have to say a word before Charon started packing up their camp. What was a little sleep deprivation worth compared to the safety of Duncan anyway?

///////////////////////////////

Staring through a shattered window to Diamond City below, X6 listened to the radio in an almost casual way. The building had a great vantage point of the main gates below and still had enough furniture to work as a proper home. As it was, X6 was sat, almost reclining, in an old, barely comfortable setee.

Those fights... while he wouldn't admit it they'd done a number on him. Laser burns marked his skin from the first fight, while the balistic bullets had managed to get a few good hits from the triggermen. Not that they mattered; the triggermen were nothing but a memory now.

X6 had tried his best with his own wounds, but he was certain it couldn't match anything the Institute could offer. Not that he could seek their help; his failure to return with Duncan left him an outcast until he could complete his mission.

No point intercepting the group to nab Duncan tomorrow, even though he knew where they were headed. They'd be expecting an attack; he'd have more success if he waited until their guard was lowered.

X6 shifted to grab his bottle of water, sending pain shooting up his side and stars exploding behind his eyes. Yes, they would be too prepared...

/////////////////

Night was already falling when Piper had left to see Travis; Nick didn't expect her to return, he knew she's want to write her notes up asap. Duncan's stomach was starting to read everyone the riot act however, imitating a whale in a desperate plea for food. Duncan himself was a little bit more polite, a little bit more shy. Only one thing for it then: Nick took Duncan to Takahashi's.

The crowd of hungry people was starting to disperse by the time they'd reached the noodle bar, yet people were still willing to offer Nick a seat out of politeness. Various people came over to greet Nick and tell him just how long he'd been missing, as if he didn't already know. Nick politely waved them off and helped Duncan onto one of the stools, ordering Duncan a bowl of noodles.

“Dogmeat's taken quite a shine to ya, kid.” Nick pointed out, trying to make conversation. Dogmeat was back at the agency, enjoying a bowl of cheap dog food and the slightly divided attention of Ellie. Duncan grinned at Nick.

“H'es the best! My best friend!” Duncan answered joyfully. Nick smiled back.

“Heh, can't argue with that. Best partner I've ever had. Have you heard what people sometimes call 'the legend of Dogmeat?” Nick asked. Duncan gave him a quizzical look. “No? People say that everyone who alters events against great odds do so with a dog called Dogmeat. I'm not sure if it's true, but it's a good story.”

“My Grandad's got a dog called Dogmeat. He's not as cute as my Dogmeat.” Duncan replied simply. Nick got the feeling Duncan didn't quite understand what Nick had said, but it didn't matter. “How do you know Dogmeat?”

“He helps me from time to time with the more difficult cases. He can sniff out trouble and clues better than me. Of course, having a working nose helps.”

Duncan nodded slightly to himself. “You must be a good person.”

“Not that I'm arguing, but what makes you say that?” Nick asked, a little taken aback by Duncan's sudden assuredness in Nick as an ally.

“Uncle Fawkes says good dogs know and trust good people. Well, uncle Butch says he does, uncle Fawkes doesn't make a lot of sense.” Duncan wittered on before turning to Nick with a warm smile. “If Dogmeat likes you, then you are a good person. I think he's right.”

Just then the noodles got served and Duncan wasted no time digging into it, struggling to keep the noodles on his fork and ultimately making nothing but a happy mess. Nick, still feeling the warmth of the boy's trust, reached over and ruffled his hair with his good hand. He'd find his dad, no two ways about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay Preston isn’t dead! But I knew that already.
> 
> I’m back from holiday but I’m a little behind with my writing so I probably won’t post an extra chapter. If I catch up though I might.
> 
> Please leave comment if you liked/disliked anything, I’m always seeking to improve!


	14. Goodneighbour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duncan and the gang head to Goodneighbour to look for RJ

  
Early the next morning, Nick and Piper prepared weapons and emergency supplies. Goodneighbour wasn't the safest place to take a 4 year old but they'd have to work around that, finding Duncan's dad was a priority and a lead this good couldn't be missed.

They found, bought or borrowed as many clothes as they needed to disguise their identities in hopes that, should they pass X6 again, he wouldn't notice. They let Duncan sleep in while they got ready; there was no point waking him just to sit and watch them work. It didn't take them long to finish, but it was long enough for Duncan to wake naturally. Piper and Duncan had breakfast while Nick finished off their preparations.

It might not have been 'crack of dawn' but they left Diamond City fairly early; early enough that no stalls were open and barely anyone other than guards paced the city. Whether the disguises worked or whether it was pure luck, they came across no trouble on the way to Goodneighbour that was out of the ordinary. Just a few muggers and ferals, nothing they couldn't handle with a swift bullet to the throat.

Goodneighbour was its good ol' lacklustre self; it stunk of piss, booze and drugs and any person they came across seemed to either be under the effects of the last two, or wishing they were. The 'disguises' were now attracting unwanted attention as the locals oggled at the strangely dressed strangers. Despite this, or maybe because of it, it didn't take long for them to be recognised.  
“Well well, Nick. I was wondering when you'd turn up.” Came a raspy voice, belonging to what looked to Duncan like a ghoul in a pirate costume. Nick seemed neither comforted nor offput by the strange ghoul, and instead just approached him. “I heard your radio message.”

“It wasn't meant for you Hancock, but you can probably help us all the same.” Nick said as the ghoul, apparently called Hancock, peered down at Duncan curiously. Duncan wasn't scared of ghouls, but he sure didn't like people staring at him. He tucked himself a bit further behind Piper.

“You're the Duncan MacCready I've heard so much about? Well, aren't you every bit as precious as your dad said.” Hancock cooed over Duncan before turning to Nick. “'Fraid you wasted your time, Nick. MacCready's not here. You should come inside so we can discuss it.”

Seeing no alternative and pleased to get indoors out of the smell of the streets, Nick, Piper, Duncan and Dogmeat entered the old state house following Hancock. Dogmeat seemed upset at the smell of the place while Piper, obviously feeling the building still wasn't a safe haven, pulled Duncan closer to her for safety. Hancock led them to his office and indicated that they should sit on the sofas. Piper clearly felt more on edge than Nick, but neither seemed to be feeling particularly comfortable. Hancock, on the other hand, was lounging across his own sofa.

“Where's MacCready then?” Nick asked, Hancock tutting in response.

“Straight to the chase, eh Nick? I like it. See, thing is, MacCready needed something. A cure for a sickness someone very close to him was suffering with.” Hancock held his gaze over Duncan for a extended moment before continuing. “He had a suspicion that a certain faction would have the cure, so when they started seeking out mercs, he seeked them out in turn. He hasn't been back since.”

Nick and Piper shared a dread filled look, while Duncan looked a little lost. Neither Nick nor Piper wanted to ask the question that was in the air; they felt sure they already knew the answer.

“Where's dad?” Duncan asked.

“The Institute, kid. I'm sorry. People that go there don't come back.” Hancock told him. Despite his attempt at a soothing voice, Piper felt a little infuriated by the harshness of the words, especially since Duncan burst into tears afterwards, clinging to Piper for comfort while Dogmeat layed his head on the sofa, giving Duncan sad, sympathetic eyes. Nick sighed and shot Hancock a look that said 'Now you've done it'. Hancock in turn looked a little guilty.

“So what now? What're you gonna do with the kid?” Hancock asked. Nick had obviously thought about a plan for the worst case scenario, but it wasn't a very good, well thought out plan considering they had no details but a location hundreds of miles away.

“We'll take him back to his grandad I suppose. Wouldn't be right to keep him here, away from his family.” Nick answered, but Hancock's eyes squinted in suspicion.

“MacCready doesn't have a dad. He's from some weird child-run society. No parents, no adults.”

“Duncan's mentioned a grandad in Megaton though, he didn't sound like he was lying.”

“Well, something fishy's going on then- what the hell is that noise?” Hancock asked, jumping to his feet. A loud revving of an engine could be heard muffled from the walls. Hancock, Nick and some of Hancock's bodyguards rushed out the door onto the balcony to investigate. “Holy shit, just look at that.” Hancock breathed in awe.

A motorbike, lovingly restored to a more flattering century, was surrounded by an oggling crowd while the driver revved the engine to attract attention. The passenger climbed off, removing his helmet to reveal a stern looking ghoul, who readied his gun just in case. The driver, in a full suit of power armour (which couldn't be comfy to drive in) pulled off his own helmet to reveal a young black man, his face set like stone. He lifted his head to address Hancock.

“You the mayor?” He shouted, the crowd turning to look at Hancock. “I'm here for my grandson.” Hancock and Nick glanced at each other. Yeah... no, there was no way this guy was old enough to be a grandad.

But Duncan had heard the voice through the open door and broke away from Piper to investigate. He spotted Zion at the same moment Zion and Charon spotted him, causing Duncan to shout down to them. “Grandad!”

“Duncan!” Zion shouted in reply, jumping off his bike without a care and storming through the crowd, leaving Charon to guide his bike. Meanwhile, Duncan raced back downstairs, Piper and Nick following after him. Duncan flung the door open and raced to Zion's open arms, Zion embracing him and picking him up into his arms, laughing with joy at finally seeing Duncan again. Nick and Piper stayed close, wary of what Hancock had just told them, while Charon pushed the bike over to the rest of them and laid an uncharacteristically gentle hand on Duncan's shoulder. Zion spotted Piper and Nick staring at him and smiled back. “From the look on your faces, I have some explaining to do. So here goes:”

“Duncan's dad is an old friend, I declared myself Duncan's grandad shortly before he was born. I heard the message on the radio, so I knew where to come find him. I was attacked by a courser, barely survived. That's how Duncan was taken. Does that answer everything?”

Nick and Piper glanced at each other. They both seemed a little dissatisfied; everything seemed to add up, they couldnt' argue that, but they didn't feel comfortable letting a stranger take Duncan so quickly. What if it was a ruse? What if the Institute was behind it? No, it was too risky. Zion picked up on the hesitation with a sigh.

“Why don't we go somewhere a little quieter to discuss this?” Zion offered, pointing towards the Hotel Rexford. It seemed a fair plan for now, so long as Nick and Piper kept close to Duncan until they were satisfied with Zion's story. They headed towards the hotel together (Hancock returning to his office instead) and Zion rented a family room for the night. He offered to pay for Nick and Piper to stay too but they had yet to decide on a plan. They all piled into the room and sat on the beds, awkwardly exchanging names then sitting in silence for a while.

“I like your dog.” Zion broke the silence as he rubbed Dogmeat's head.

“He's my dog, Grandad!” Duncan butted in with a mix of joy and pride. Zion gave a smile to Duncan before looking to Piper and Nick for confirmation.

“That'll make the journey home more interesting but... we can do it.” Zion mumbled under his breath.

“Is Duncan's dad alright with him having a dog?” Piper asked. She hoped Hancock was lying, and Duncan's dad was alright, but there was also a great deal of hope that, no matter the outcome, Duncan could keep his best friend.

“RJ loved dogs, to be honest I'm surprised Duncan doesn't already have a dog!” Zion joked, although he knew some of the reasoning. RJ wasn't exactly rolling in money and another mouth to feed when you're already stuggling to feed the ones you have is rarely appreciated. “Anyway, even if he didn't, I'm always happy to have another dog at my house.”

Nick turned to Piper with a look of 'go along with what I say' before gently suggesting “Why don't you, Charon and Duncan go search for some lunch, or explore the hotel? I need a word with Zion.” Piper agreed, happily taking Duncan's hand but still a little hesitant to be joined by the tall, brooding ghoul. As soon as the door closed, Zion leaned forward in a hushed whisper.

“Tell me what's going on.” Zion demanded, and Nick obliged, telling him everything he knew about Duncan's adventure and the predicament MacCready was in. Zion took it all in and didn't even think for a minute before declaring “Right, I'm gonna go save RJ.”

“What? Haven't you heard the stories? No one enters the Institute and leaves, or lives, to tell the tale. A bike and a suit of power armour's not gonna get you far.” Nick berated him, only for Zion to huff in response.

“Look, I know this is the Commonwealth and the Brotherhood of Shitbags have tried to reduce the spread of my stories but I'm the fucking Lone Wanderer. If I can nuke the Enclave I can save my friend.” Zion boasted, but Nick could feel that they weren't just empty words. “I can tell you still don't believe everything I'm telling you, but it's the truth. I'm doing this for Duncan, just as I know you are. So please, just believe me for a minute.” Zion implored. He sure was persuasive when he wanted to be.

“Do you even have any experience with this kind of thing? Advanced techonologies, entering highly secretive, highly elusive, highly **deadly** facilities, and getting out alive?” Nick asked, but he could feel his own doubt disappearing under the words coming from Zion's silver tongue.

“No, but I have a friend who does. She'll help, I know it.” Zion sat back with a look of triumph and pride in his friend's abilities. “Tell me, where's the nearest vault?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonder what Zion wants a vault for? And who’s this friend he’s mentioned twice now?
> 
> Please consider leaving a comment if you’re enjoying the story, I’d love to hear anything from you!


	15. Vault 81

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zion and Nick explore Vault 81 in hopes of finding a way to contact ‘a friend’, but what they find is more than they bargained for.
> 
> (Side note: I’m practicing writing more detailed, gory descriptions in chapter 15 and gory fight scenes in Chapter 16. If you’d rather not read it for whatever reason I’ll put a brief summary of what happens in the author notes at the end of Chapter 16.)

Despite Nick's protests, they took the bike and reached the vault in a flash, yet Nick remained to proud to admit he'd actually enjoyed it. Piper, Charon, Duncan and Dogmeat returned to Diamond City while Zion and Nick headed to a vault that 'might not be the closest, but it should be the safest if we can talk our way in'. Zion refused to divulge why he needed the vault other than to contact his friend. It felt fishy, but something about Zion was very convincing and calming. He had a tongue of silver and the face of an angel, you felt wrong to doubt him.

Once they reached the vault entrance, however, Zion suddenly seemed wary. “Something's not right. This vault is dead.” He stated cryptically, making Nick push him for clarification. “I've been to many vaults, I've got a good feeling for these kind of things. This vault's in trouble.”

At the control panel Zion used his Pipboy to unlock the door, thankful that it seemed to be a 'one pip fits all' type deal. They expected resistance, for the vault to override the invasion but... nothing. Zion felt a little miffed at that; he'd planned a great and humorous speech about how he was the ambassador for vault 101 and now it was going to waste.

The door opened with all it's usual grandeur but the rushing air brought with it and unexpected smell. Death. Sickness. Decay. Zion had been right, the vault had died and was rotting in its tomb. Somewhat recently if the functioning lights and unrusted walls weren't lying. Zion's face scrunched up as he put on his helmet.

“Hey, uh, can you get ill and stuff? Will you be alright?” Zion asked Nick, his usual charismatic demeanour falling flat in the face of the smell.

“Guess we'll find out.” Nick replied flatly before turning to Zion with a smile that said he was following regardless. They drew their guns and entered, wary of what was to greet them.

////////////////////////

Meanwhile, back in Diamond City, Duncan's group had just re-entered the city. The journey back hadn't been quite as quiet as the journey to Goodneighbour but fortunate for them, they had Charon on their side. What he couldn't scare away using intimidation he shot dead effortlessly. Clearly what he lacked in social skills he made up for in combat skills.

The wanna be raiders they'd come across had one purpose at least; they provided plenty of clothing and armour options, since there was no way in hell that any guard was letting Piper into Diamond City with a ghoul. The armour covered up Charon's burnt skin good enough that a guard wouldn't expect a ghoul to be staring at him behind the bike helmet. So long as Charon stayed quiet he could pass, and Piper doubted that Charon would find the required silence difficult.

However, they seemed to have been expected. They spotted an old Mister Handy anxiously patrolling outside the Publik while Nat watched on from the open doorway with some amusement. Piper caught her eye and raised an eyebrow questioningly, but Nat just shrugged.

Eventually the robot turned and spotted the small group, his eye lenses growing wide. “Duncan! My goodness am I glad to see you again. I was worried sick!” The robot fussed, rushing over to Duncan, only to halt at the sight of Charon drawing and aiming his gun at the strange robot.

“Hi Codsworth!” Duncan shouted cheerily, pushing past Charon to hug one of Codsworth's arms. Charon didn't object, but neither did he settle. “Have your family come back yet?”

“No, not yet. But I just couldn't stop worrying about you, wondering if you'd found your dad yet. I had to come find you and help you in any way I can, I'm sure the mistress would understand. Dare I ask if you've been successful yet?” Codsworth asked carefully, so as to avoid upsetting Duncan if the question had a sad answer.

“Not yet.” Piper butted in. “But there's been some progress, we've found his Grandad and he's very determined to find Duncan's dad.” Codsworth turned to her with a slightly puzzled air. “Oh, I'm Piper Wright, I helped Duncan find Diamond City.”

“It's a pleasure Miss Wright, I have heard about your newspaper and might I say it is good to know there's still people out there trying to keep the press up and running. I've always felt you can't have a proper breakfast without the day's news.” Codsworth wittered on. Piper felt sure he wasn't all there, but he seemed to be harmless enough, and Duncan seemed quite fond of him too. “Might I ask who the gentleman pointing the gun at me is?”

“Uncle Charon!” Duncan announced proudly, throwing himself into a hug around Charon's lower body. Charon wrapped one arm around the child's shoulders but didn't lower his gun.

“As far as I can tell, that's just his way. Don't worry.” Piper hazarded, glancing at Charon to make sure he hadn't thought her rude but with his face hidden he was even more unreadable than ever. However he didn't point the gun at her so that was probably a good sign.

“And what of Mister Garvey? Where is he?” Codsworth inquired, causing Duncan to tighten his grip on Charon. He didn't want to think about that at all.

“Explains why my ears are burning.” Came a chuckle headed towards them from the city gates as a worse-for-wear, but nevertheless alive, Preston Garvey made his way towards the small, but growing, crowd.

///////////////////////

Molerats scuttled along the old vault, looking sickly but well fed. The source of the wave of death was quickly identified; a corpse sat slumped in a chair, wearing a vault suit that had been torn to pieces exposing chunks of rotten, half eaten flesh. It's eyes were closed in a shallow face tinged green with sickness and grey with death. On a table next to it lay a holotape.

As they stood assessing the situation, a molerat climbed over to the body and continued eating, loudly squelching gore between its teeth. Zion had seen enough, and drew his Rock-It Launcher and fired a single, high velocity fork at the molerat, pinning it to the corpse for its final death throes.

Nick eyed the massive junk jet with concern before looking at Zion. “You don't really do subtle, do you?” he asked.

“I do when it comes to convincing someone, but if they can't be reasoned with, or I don't want to reason with them, it's better to shoot to kill.” Zion answered, making his way to the holotape and keeping an eye out for more molerats. He grabbed the holotape and glanced around the entrance. “This place still looks pretty good, you know. Must've only recently gone to shit.”

“Within the last six months I reckon. I hadn't heard anything of it.” Nick replied. Zion nodded his head in agreement before putting the holotape into his Pipboy.

“If you're reading this, it means we're doomed.” Came a pained, raspy voice. “The rats, there's something wrong with them. The disease they carry... God, the children went first. The rats bite you and, if they don't kill you, the disease will.” The speaker had a coughing fit and started breathing more heavily. “Once our doctor died, we knew we were done for. The overseer closed the vault... stop the disease spreading...”

The tape went mostly silent with a few moments, only the heaving wheezing of the speaker told them that it was still running. “The generator room. There's a whole other vault. That's where they came from. Stop them before they kill everyone.” The tape finished with a click. Zion removed it and placed it carefully into place.

“We have to. We can't risk the molerats escaping and spreading this disease.” Zion had such a matter of fact tone to his voice that Nick couldn't see any point in arguing against it. He agreed anyway, the molerats had to go.

They made their way through the vault, thankful that the lights still worked and showed any molerats more clearly. There weren't too many corpses, but Zion suspected that most of them would be in the living quarters of the vault.

But once they reached the generator room the smell got worse. The source lay scattered around a dark opening; security had clearly tried to stop the molerats but were outnumbered, the damage so severe that Zion could only tell they were security from the standard issue batons and helmet.

Luckily, the molerats had left a trail, having pulled one or two corpses further into the dark towards their nest, leaving streaked blood stains across the floor. If they managed to poison the nest, the molerats would likely die out reasonably quickly, but it would mean traipsing through the dark with the knowledge that a single bite could mean their death.

Zion switched on his power armour helmet light and led the way, guided by the most macabre bread crumb trail possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No sole survivor means those mole rats weren’t dealt with and now the vault is dead. Whoops.
> 
> Btw Zion’s highest SPECIAL is Charisma at 10 and his lowest is agility as base 3 (although he grabbed bobble heads so he’s a little better). He doesn’t know the meaning of stealth.
> 
> I’d love to read any comments people have on the story thus far. I hope you are enjoying reading my writing as much as I enjoy writing it.


	16. Death Of A Vault

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vault 81 is no more, and Zion and Nick must now traverse it carefully to avoid having the same fate.

Rubble lay piled up in corners. Doors long since forgotten were jammed. What little power from the generator still ran through this second vault was barely enough to keep any lights on. Zion was thankful for his Pipboy light and the light on his helmet, else they'd be wandering in the dark.

As he'd said before, Zion wasn't much for sneaking; instead he stormed through with a presence only possible by those in power armour. The Rock-It launcher proved deadlier than Nick though possible; he'd been sceptical of the killing power of an empty box of abraxo but so far it was working.

They left a trail of molerats with varying types of fatal injury in their wake, ranging from deadly teddy bear clubbing to a bowling ball to the face. They poisoned every nest they came across, no matter how small, using Med-x, abraxo, anything they could find that would prove fatal to the molerats.

The molerats seemed quite spread out, they never encountered more than two at a time and with a simple technique of Zion taking the closest or leftmost molerat while Nick dealt with the furthest or rightmost molerat meant they never faced overwhelming numbers. But the further they went, the more frequent the molerats would appear. They were nearing the main nest without a doubt.

Said nest was swarming; 20 molerats of varying ages scuttled madly about and an alarm was raised before Zion or Nick could take their first shot, causing all prior tactics to be forgotten. Wild shots were fired at the nearest molerats. A bullet sped through one skull mid-air, causing the corpse to crash on top of another. A second bullet stopped the second molerat before it could react. Another molerat had its open mouth smashed by a basketball. A fourth couldn't dodge a wrench. Yet for every molerat they took down, more just took their place.

They started getting too close for comfort, Nick and Zion backing up as much as possible to try and keep them at bay. A molerat prepared to sink its teeth into Nick's foot only to be booted away. Zion was less lucky. A small, quick molerat managed to latch on to his power armour. Shrieking in surprise, Zion turned the Rock-It launcher to face the attached molerat. He shoved the gun into its face, crushing its skull against the floor. Then, turning the brain-covered nozzle towards a crowd of seven oncoming molerats, he fired a bowling ball, scoring a strike as each was knocked away, unmoving.

The rest were easier pickings; too young or too old to fight properly. They were quickly dealt with, and the nest made toxic. Still catching their breaths, Nick turned to Zion with concern.

“I saw one of those beasts bite you. You gonna be okay?” He asked, examining where the molerat had been hanging off Zion's leg.

“It didn't even get through the armour. Think I'll be alright.” Zion answered, running a hand over the dent. “Come on, lets get to the end, make sure there's no other nests.”

The next room felt a stark contrast to the rest of the vault. It was clean, bright, airy. Old, but not completely unused. Zion was visibly more relaxed at its familiarity to his old vault, but his guard sparked up upon hearing a robotic, vaguely French, voice.

“Oh, a stranger! Are you Vault-Tec Security? I've waited so very patiently for you to arrive.” Zion glanced through the window to spy a white, slightly rusting Miss Nanny robot. He'd dealt with enough of General Atomic's 'best' to recognise warning signs of... malfunction, but this one seemed to be mostly functioning on all gears.

“First things first, who are you?” Zion asked.

“I am a Contagious Vulnerability Robotic Infirmary Engineer, or CVRIE. The human scientists call me Curie, or more properly, they called me this when they were alive. I repeat, are you Vault-Tec Security?”

“Yes, I am. I've been sent to ask for information regarding the disease these molerats carry. Can you tell me anything about them?” Zion lied effortlessly, and Curie didn't appear to think it was a lie .

“My poor little darlings. They were used to grow all manner of new and interesting pathogens. Then vault citizens would be exposed to them in the hopes they would develop new antibodies. But they never got a chance to execute their plan. Clyde got out of his cage. He was smarter than the others, my sweet little Clyde. He's been dead nearly two centuries now, but his descendants have free run of the vault.”

“Yeah, we noticed.” Nick grumbled.

“I am pleased to report I completed my primary duties 83 years ago. Thousands of pathogens were grown in molerat hosts. Then a single broad spectrum cure was developed to treat them all. Very satisfying work for many decades. Now, please tell me you are authorised to release me from the lab.”

“Uh, yeah, you're free to leave now, Curie.” Zion announced, a little befuddled. He had his dad's silver tongue but no aptitude for science, however he understood enough to figure out that Curie had just told him that she'd developed a cure for all diseases, or at least many. Once Curie opened the door he asked about it.

“Unfortunately, all samples expired not too long ago, and the plants used to make it I fear will likely have gone extinct.” Curie apologised.

“Is there any chance I can have a copy of your data on the cure?” Zion asked, Nick glancing at him with a look of confusion. “It'll make an interesting read. I like learning about the vaults and their experiments.”

“Of course. You can download it from that computer.” Curie said, indicating a computer in the corner of the room. Zion eagerly burned the data onto a holodisk and placed it in his pack.

“What're you gonna do now, Curie?” Zion asked. The data she'd just freely handed over was so valuable, he felt he had to at least make sure she would be alright.

“Since my primary objective is now complete, I think I will leave the vault and search the outside world for ways to help people and progress science.” Curie answered joyfully.

“Why not come with us? We could use a med bot.” Zion suggested, not even looking to Nick for his approval. Not that Nick minded having Curie around, but running it past him first would've been nice...

“I think that is a wonderful idea. Thank you so very much.” Curie bounced with excitement. Zion turned to Nick.

“Nick, you and Curie go wait by the front of the vault. There's something I need to do.” Zion instructed.

“I'd almost forgot this wasn't a social call. Well alright, just don't take too long.” Nick replied.

They walked back to the generator room together, Curie shrieking in horror at the remains of the security guards. “Did my little molerats do this?” She asked in quiet horror. Zion felt the question was better left unanswered. Nick and Curie headed back to the entrance while Zion went deeper into the vault. The bright lights meant he came across no nests and the few molerats he encountered were alone.

The real challenge was the smell. Clearly the vault had started by trying to dispose of their dead respectfully, but eventually the heavy losses started to break down the vault and corpses were left where they died. A single hint stood that they'd tried to contain the outbreak beyond security failing to kill the molerats; through the window to a locked room at least five corpses could be spotted, having apparently died while clawing at the door for freedom. Elsewhere, a body lay slumped over at the cafeteria, having apparently collapsed into his cereal bowl. The clinic's beds were filled and the cabinets were empty.

Zion passed by a room with an interesting scene, so he investigated. The necrotic corpse of a man, dead from a shot to the chest, lay in a puddle of dry, brown blood. Across the room sat the decaying corpse of a woman who'd been shot through the head, the gun on the floor near her limp hand suggested she'd done them both in. Investigating the terminal explained:

'Working on official vault business, my ass. He wasn't here when Erin passed, he barely stayed for her funeral. I'd bet anything he was with Tina again. If he ever shows his face again I won't let there be anything left to show.'

Zion carried on towards the Overseer's office. Despite how many vaults he'd been in, he felt like he'd never get used to the sheer amount of death, often times intentional, that was an almost inevitable factor in the vaults. Yet he always took an almost morbid interest in those final messages left by the dwellers. Those final thoughts and actions really spoke volumes on humanity, and made Zion wonder what, in his own final moments, he would find to be vital actions or words that simply had to be done or known.

The office was surprisingly clean, if you ignored the cobwebs. No corpses, which Zion felt strange. Surely if the overseer locked you underground to die at least one person would try to have a die-in protest. But there was nothing. A corpse in the living quarters, sure, but the office was almost pretty compared to what he was used to seeing. No blood, no gore, not even any rust.

He sat at the desk and booted up the terminal, inserting the holodisk given to him by his friend almost 5 years ago. The terminal ran the programme successfully, so Zion removed the holodisk and reclined in the chair, tapping away at his Pipboy. Having friends in high, technologically advanced places really helped out when you needed to call a favour in from them.

The Pipboy linked successfully and Zion lifted it to his face. “Hey, you hear me?” he asked. The response was quick.

“Aye, I hear ya. What d'ya want?” Came the rough voice of his friend. Zion grinned; her accent always meant he could identify that it was her on the other end. You didn't find many Northern-English gals in post-apocalyptic America.

“How quickly can you get to Diamond City?” Zion asked. He braced himself for an earful for the ridiculous request.

“Eh, maybe an hour? Two? Need teh finish off 'ere but I can come over pretty quick.” Was the reply. Zion was surprised.

“You already in the Commonwealth?” Zion asked.

“Wae aye. I'll tell ya more when I get there. What's so difficult ya need my help, anyway?”

“The little shit's in trouble.” Zion moaned jokingly, and received and equally joking sigh in reply.

“Say no more, I'll be over in a jiffy.” The line clicked off and Zion stood to his feet. He'd best get ready for her visit, it'd been so long since they'd last seen each other.

/////////////////////////////////////

Nat was selling papers in her usual spot, and keeping an eye on everyone who passed by, as instucted. While she wasn't in a hurry to go on another adventure, she still wanted to help Piper and Duncan and she'd been assured that this would be a big help.

Duncan had been so pleased to see Preston again that he took it upon himself to introduce Preston to everyone he could and, once Zion and Nick returned, Duncan made sure his grandad knew just how cool Preston was. Preston seemed a little flustered, but Zion had hugged him and bought him a drink in thanks. Zion had bought everyone who's helped Duncan a drink by the end of it, but he seemed extra thankful to Preston for getting him away from the slavers, even brushing off Preston's apologies for leaving Duncan alone in Boston since Zion felt Preston had done it for Duncan's safety regardless.

Now the Miss Nanny Zion had brought back, Curie, and Codsworth were chatting outside the slightly overcrowded Publik. They were keeping an eye out for trouble that Nat might've missed, but no one could've missed The Woman.

She was white and wore riot gear, the helmet in her hands, that had clearly taken some beatings yet still worked near good as new. She was visibly carrying 4 separate weapons on her person (a knife, an axe, a pistol and an energy rifle), yet had the air of someone who would conceal even more. She didn't look around, just headed directly in front of her, eyes towards the ground from behind a pair of glasses.

“Excuse me, miss, would you like a paper? Free to outsiders.” Nat offered, pushing the paper towards the woman as she passed. She silently took the paper and skimmed over its contents before looking to Nat.

“You know where Zion is.” The woman stated in a deliberate voice, looking at Nat over the frames of her glasses. It wasn't even a question. “Fetch him, please.” She asked.

Nat wasn't sure how to answer, so she just ran back to the Publik, looking to Codsworth for help. Codsworth acknowledged Nat's concern and went to speak to the woman.

“Greetings miss! Welcome to Diamond City. Are you here for a particular reason?” Codsworth asked cheerfully with a wave of his arms. Particularly the chainsaw one.

“A Mister Handy, ey? Always hated how fake yer accents are. What's yer name?” The woman asked, now pointedly using her accent again.

“My accent is as genuine as it gets, and my name is Codsworth, a pleasure to make your acquaintance. May I ask your name?” Codsworth asked politely. The woman tutted and pointed towards the clothing on her legs.

“Quick question, genuine Brit. What're these?”

“Why, those are pants, of course. I shouldn't have to tell you that.” Codsworth scoffed. The woman simply laughed.

“Aye, reet proper you are. They're trousers, or did the yanks forget to programme a dialect?”

“Well I never.” Codsworth scoffed, utterly offended. “You still haven't told me your name.” But at that moment, Zion walked over to the two of them, grinning ear to ear, followed by the crowd from within the Publik. The woman turned her attention to him instead.

“Hey loser. Yuh gonna tell me why I'm 'ere, or...?” She asked, playfully punching him in the shoulder. Zion punched back before turning to the crowd.

“Everyone, this is my friend. You may have heard of her. She goes by many names. But her most well known, and currently preferred, one,” He paused for dramatic effect.

“Is The Courier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the Courier, she was planned to enter the story from the beginning. 
> 
> Next chapter is going to have Piper interview the Courier so I have more practice writing that kind of scene. If anyone has any questions about my Courier, please feel free to leave them in a comment below or sent to my tumblr blog of-wyrms-and-guns and I might feature it in the next chapter!  
> The Courier DOES NOT have a Scottish accent. Britain isn’t split into London, Wales and Scotland, don’t misattribute her accent as Scottish as I’ve seen too often with Northern English characters on this site. Also the whole ‘Codsworth calls them pants not trousers’ thing has always infuriated me about this game. He also pronounced my name wrong despite being a ‘british’ robot and should therefore pronounce it the british way, not the American way.
> 
> For anyone who skipped the past two chapters, welcome back! In short: Vault 81 has been killed by the mole rat disease, Zion and Nick have recruited Curie and Zion’s friend has also joined the party, and it’s The Courier.


	17. The Courier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piper interviews the Courier for the newspaper.

Piper had heard of the Courier, they all had. The 33 year old mailwoman who'd defeated three armies and rose to take over Vegas itself, only to change its fortunes from a gambler's wet dream to the technological centre of the post-apocalypse. There were still plenty of casinos, but now the city was just as known for its advances in medicine, water purification and power production as it was its vices. And, of course, for its legendary Courier.

An interview with such a legendary figure would sure sell well, everyone seemed to want to know the story. There were so many borderline impossible tales about the Courier that Piper was just dying to crack. This was the perfect opportunity.

Zion and the Courier were chatting and laughing at the back of the 'help Duncan' party, giving Piper an ample opportunity to get to her before anyone else.

“Excuse me, Piper Wright. Reporter for the Publik Occurrences.” Piper introduced herself, jumping in front of the startled woman. “Would you mind sitting for an interview? Our readers are dying to know about you.” Piper gave the Courier a dashing smile, but the Courier didn't quite seem to understand. Piper repeated herself, and this time the Courier got it.

“Sure, sure. I don't mind.” The Courier answered, smiling back but clearly still processing Piper's interruption. Once everyone was in the Publik and seated somewhat uncomfortably Piper started the interview with the Courier, who sat comfortably on the floor.

“So, first things first. Is 'The Courier' you real name?” Piper asked, getting a few titters at the question from around the room.

“Just 'Courier' is canny, no need for 'The', and it's as close to a real one as you'll find.” Courier answered.

“How did you end up with a name like that?” Piper asked. Might as well start with basic questions.

“Because I'm a courier?” Courier joked flatly. “Nah, I kna what ya mean. Used to do trade with a city of kids in DC. The mayor started calling me it after I told him I was a courier. Name stuck. Don't think the mayor even asked my given name.”

“You're a long way from Vegas though, how did you get here and aren't you worried about back home?”

“I teleported. One of the technologies we got there now. I'm messing with ya again. God, must've been 20 years ago now. Fixed up a quad bike with some mates, used it to travel the wastes. I left it with the guards just inside the gates. And I left Arcade in charge back home, worst he'll do is bore people to death with the History of Medicine. If owt happens, he can contact me. Managed to hack the RobCo systems so I can send long distance messages so long as I hack some vaults between the locations. It's how Zion called me here.”

“Now about those 3 armies you defeated...”

“2.” Courier interrupted. “Defeated 2, stole the third using leet hacker skills and a gold club.”

“Alright, 2 armies. Which was the toughest?”

“Depends how you define tough. One was more morally righteous, believed in gender equality and all that, but had very varied training and equipment. They were good people for the most part, some of my team even supported them, but they weren't the right people to lead Vegas. T'other was an army of frilly skirt wearing shitheads that raped women, destroyed the culture of nearly 100 different tribes, and threw children into battlefields for their narcissistic God-King. Their training and dedication was enviable, but their morals and methods were not. NCR were tougher because they were good people, the Legion was tougher because they were good fighters.”

Piper madly made notes, trying to keep up with and occasionally decipher what Courier was saying. The accent was a little tough at times. “How did you change Vegas from 'a den of antiquity' to the shining beacon of technological and medical advances that it is?” Piper asked, and the Courier made a face of disbelief.

“Advances? We haven't released any advances, just got old world gear up and running again. Mostly we were lucky that some pre-world codger decided to build hydroelectric purifiers and solar power plants in our wasteland. But I'll let you into a secret for what helped. I managed to break into an old science facility and an old casino they trialled inventions in, and took the technology I found for my own purposes. Now we can mass produce stimpacks and turn easy-to-grow-but-useless plants into very-useful-but-hard-to-grow cloned plants.”

“Wow, that's quite something. I'd ask if you had any advice for turning the Commonwealth around but...” Piper trailed off. The technology, the advances. She felt certain the only advice would be 'join the Institute'.

“I do, actually. Help each other. My 'gang' is a ragtag bunch of misfits and my army was a reflection of that. Gangsters, settlers, power-armoured warriors, tribals... We all came together for a common goal and did it because I'd helped them, and they in turn wanted to help me. After the war, we worked to recognise how each of us could work together to make Vegas not just what we wanted it to be, but what the world needed it to be. Oh, and fund the Followers of the Apocalypse. They're a canny bunch.”

Piper seemed happily satisfied with that answer and the general consensus of the room seemed to agree. Piper perked up with excitement as she got to the next round of questions. “Alright, some quick-fire questions now, just want you to confirm or deny some legends about you that are popular.” Piper gave Courier a grin, and Courier winked back.

“Do you know what a fish is?”

“Aye, but do you kna what a fish is?”

“Irrelevant. Is it true you slept with a sexbot?”

“No! I hired it to work at a casino, not for personal use. Sheesh.”

“Do you speak any other languages?”

“Just sarcasm and pitmattic, but I'm conversational in Geordie. Oh, and my vaquero's trying to teach me Spanish and I know some sign language.”

“Ever met a talking Deathclaw?”

“Aye, he's reet canny like. Called Goris. Borrowed a book from me three years ago and lost the bloody thing.”

“Have you met The Chosen One?”

“Aye, and he's an arsehole. And you can quote me on that.”

“Do you genuinely fight robots with an axe?”

“Aye, this one 'ere.” Courier waved the shiny, but seemingly bladeless, axe around, causing a few giggles as how it couldn't really be used as a weapon, could it?

“Is it true you killed a Deathclaw with a switchblade?”

“Heh, call me the patron saint of 'em. One of my gals punched one to death though. That was more impressive.”

“Where exactly did you come from?”

“Me mam.”

“Fair enough. How did you not die after being shot point blank in the face?”

“I did die, I'm actually a ghost.” Courier raised her arms and made wooing noises.

“What percentage of Nevada have you slept with?”

“Zero, I'm aroace. But! I am reliably told that the Chosen One has slept with at least 80% of California. That includes Super Mutants and several NCR presidents.”

“Wow. How does it feel knowing that you're the oldest person to become such a well known folk hero, as opposed to like The Vault Dweller and The Chosen One, who were 16 and 18 respectively?”

“Don't forget Zion, he was 19. But it's really weird. Why do people keep sending teenage boys on suicide missions anyway? Just let us adult women do it, sheesh.”

Piper nodded to herself and thanked Courier for her time. Courier smiled before turning back to Zion. “Ey, did she ask you that in all?”

“No, but I'm used to it. I mean, I'm not The Mother Fuckin' Mailman, am I?”

“Nah, but you did bring clean water to all of DC. And stop a super villain. And write a book.”

“Yeah, well, The Brotherhood doesn't like people knowing that, do they? It was all them. So I'm not as known, no-one wants to read about me.” Zion joked, but everyone could see it bothered him.

“So why 'ave I been called 'ere? What's RJ done now?” Courier asked, so Zion gave a quick run down of the story. People tried to interject with their own information, but Zion shushed them until they all stopped. “Let me get this straight. You want me to help break into the equivalent of the Big MT except this people aren't in a logic loop, to break out a merc, and some'ow not get killed?”

“Yeah, that's the jist of it.” Zion confirmed.

“Great, I'll do it. What's the plan?” Courier asked enthusiastically.

“Well, we were kinda hoping, with all your experience in this particular field, that you might have a plan.” Zion ventured cautiously. Courier started to object but Zion interupted. “You're the best suited, and your plans work all the time and you have so much talent at winning against the odds, please will you at least start the plan?”

Courier gave him a look that said 'Don't try it on me', but she relented anyway. “Best bet I can think of is to get 'elp. We'll need information on how to get into the Institute. Considering what I've heard on the hostilities between the people and the Institute, getting people under a common banner won't hurt either. And we might need firepower in case shit hits the fan.”

Zion clapped once in excitement. “I have friends in a secret organisation that'll know something about getting in, I hope. They'll be a good first stop.”

“And I'll go find the Minutemen. If anyone can unite Boston under one banner, it's them.” Courier announced. Preston took a sharp intake of air, clearly she hadn't heard.

“That might be a problem. The Minutemen are no more. I'm the last, everyone else left or died.” Preston admitted, looking pointedly at the floor between his feet. But Courier simply considered what he was saying and shrugged.

“One person's more'n enough. I'll just have to build up the Minutemen before we need them. You'll 'elp.” Courier announced so matter of fact, pointing at Preston. Preston was taken aback, but the thought that the Minutemen might yet rise again was too exciting to turn her down.

“What about the firepower? Surely you're not planning on bringing an army over from Nevada?” Piper asked, but couldn't hide the hint of excitement in her voice.

“Nah, don't be daft. That's still summat to ponder, but I'm thinking...” The Courier turned to Zion with a sheepish grin. “Maybe we could trick the Brotherhood?”

“Absolutely not.” Zion snapped. “What the hell makes you think they'll help us anyway? They hate us.”

“They hate me.” Courier corrected. “But last I 'eard you were still a sentinel, and the soldiers still gush about ya.” Courier pushed, but Zion stood steadfast. “Anyway, if worst comes to worst, we can kill a few patrols and take the firepower.”

“So it's a plan.” Zion reluctantly agreed, standing up with the Courier. “You and Preston will go rebuilt the minutemen, Charon and I will find my synth-loving friends.”

“Aye. We'll keep at it until you call us and ask to meet up again.” Courier agreed, shaking Zion's hand. Zion walked over to where Duncan was sat on the floor by Codsworth, half crushed by Dogmeat.

“It'll be safer if you stayed here a while, Duncan. We'll find your dad, you just stay here and be a kid, alright?”

Duncan hated waiting, but he knew that tone Grandad was using. It was the 'do as I say or you're in BIG TROUBLE' voice, which left Duncan little choice but to agree. Zion turned to the remaining adults.

“You've done so much already, I feel bad asking for more. But could you possibly keep an eye on Duncan while I'm gone?” Zion asked, turning on his innocent charm. Codsworth was almost beside himself with joy.

“Why, it'll be an honour, sir. I will make sure Duncan is safe and well cared for, on the honour of General Atomics.” Codsworth declared. Zion was surprised, and turned to Nick and Piper in hope for their input.

“We'll watch over him, don't you worry.” Nick soothed Zion.

“Yeah, just don't go having too much fun in our absence.” Piper warned sarcastically.

The Courier and Preston were already half-way out the door, preferring a quieter exit, by the time Zion had settled Duncan's babysitting. Charon moved away from the wall he'd been leaning on at the far side of the Publik to join Zion as he bid farewell to Duncan and headed out.

“Where are we going?” Charon asked, already knowing it was a pointless question. Zion usually preferred to just go where the wind took him, never planning the next destination or asking for directions unless it was strictly necessary, which had rightfully earned him the nickname 'Lone Wanderer' in DC. His blasee attitude to getting lost meant that Charon dreaded going into the Capital City with Zion. Last time they did they were lost for almost 2 weeks. Zion had yet to live it down.

This time was a ittle better. He had an inkling of a destination, a hint at a direction, but the starting point was still unknown. But four words meant to guide him were seared into his mind.

'Follow The Freedom Trail.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the story is gonna split away from Duncan and Dogmeat for now and focus on Zion for the next few chapters, then it’ll switch to the Courier.
> 
> Please leave a comment regarding if you like/dislike what’s going on. I’d love to hear from you!


	18. How hard can following a line be?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zion and Charon are out searching for an old aquaintance of Zion’s.

“ 'Boston Commons- The Freedom Trail Starts Here!' I'd say that's a good starting point.” Zion read out, pointing at the poster. Charon sighed impatiently.  
“Do you even know where that is?” He asked, his raspy voice lending perfectly to his frustration. Running with Zion was some definition of fun (the dangerous, never two days alike kind of definition), but mostly it involved so much aimless wandering that all of Zion's friends wished he just stayed home more.  
“Well, commons is like a park, right? We passed a park earlier, so let's go back there and look around some more.” Zion suggested, heading in a completely different direction to that which they came. Charon followed regardless. Despite Zion's seemingly happy-go-lucky attitude to travelling, he did have a decent sense of direction, and they quickly found the commons again.  
Too bad that direction-sense was useless in DC.  
They made their way to the fountain, an old world water source that made logical sense to start at. After all, people head to water. Their plan worked well, as they quickly spotted a sign reading 'At Journey's End Follow Freedom's Lantern.”  
“That has to be the most awkwardly worded sign ever. What the hell does it mean?” Zion asked with a sputtered laugh. Charon interrupted him to point out the seal reading 'The Freedom Trail, Boston'. Zion grinned at Charon and started to jog along the line, Charon following behind.  
“Thanks for coming, by the way. You know you didn't have to.” Zion patted Charon on the back.  
“Contract says I do.” Charon countered.  
“Yeah, but I didn't invite you along, you invited yourself along. You made a choice for yourself! Aww, I'm so proud!” Zion teased, Charon flashing him a dark look. The trail got obscured by rubble, but red paint nearby seemed to be marking where to go. They followed that instead until the bricks were visible again.  
“Wait.” Charon instructed, Zion doing as he was told. “Trouble ahead.” Charon drew his shotgun and Zion drew his Rock-It Launcher and the two split to opposite sides of the road. Three super mutants rounded the corner, discussing what Zion referred to as their 'beautifully unique and elegant way the super mutant philosophy of:' preparing human body parts for consumption. Rather than carry on, the mutants stopped on the trail; Zion and Charon couldn't continue without taking them out.  
Charon grabbed Zion's attention, and showed him the grenade he was planning to throw. Zion took the hint and pulled out a grenade of his own. They watched each other pull the pin, count, and throw, then they both ducked.  
The explosion caught the mutants off guard. They shouted in pain, grabbing their weapons. Charon fired at the nearest mutant, who swung his bat in the confusion. It hit the machine gun wielding mutant, who yelled at his friend. Zion fired his gun and a paper weights struck the mini gun mutant. This mutant stumbled, but did not fall. The third shot his rifle madly, forcing Zion and Charon to duck behind cover. Nothing hit them, but the other two mutants recovered in that time. Batty raced over to Zion, taking a plate to the face for his efforts, and raised his bat. Charon shot him in the neck, spraying blood over Zion.  
Zion shoved the body out of the way and turned his attention to Mini. The mini gun was now warmed up and the onslaught had Charon pinned against the wall. Zion shot at the mutant but missed, the glass cup smashing on the floor. Zion swore, but his gun was now empty. Charon pulled out another grenade and threw it, this time it landed by Mini's feet and the explosion left little more than a short scream and a rain of gore. Rifle, having now reloaded, rushed forward to get a better shot, but Zion had already switched to a standard plasma rifle. With a nod to Charon, they aimed for the head, and the double assault caused the mutant's skull to explode in a rain of hot plasma and lead.  
Stepping from their covers, Charon and Zion shared a thankful look and carried on, breathing a little heavier but no worse for wear. They hadn't gotten 20 metres when they heard a loud, pained shout.  
“You killed my brothers!” Came the roar, livid and deep. Zion and Charon glanced back to spot a fourth super mutant stood amidst the corpses, growling and heaving like an animal. Zion and Charon drew their guns; then they heard the beeping.  
It was a suicider.  
They hesitated no more, and took off chasing the line as fast as they could without leaving the other behind. They dropped mines, grenades, anything to slow their pursuer, but nothing worked. They ran through bewildered raider camps, past hopeless conmen and leapt over rubble, but still the chase continued. The line stopped and started, twisted and turned, doubled back on itself so much they weren't even sure they weren't going in circles any more, they just kept running.  
Charon pulled out a pistol and grabbed Zion's right hand before turning to take pot shots at the suicider. By this point the suicider was mostly blood and bone, a broken, twisted jawbone jutting out through the skin here, the ragged remnants of an arm there. Any lesser mutant would have fallen. Now it was like a headless chicken, chasing the duo out of nerved and instinct rather than by reasoned decision.  
Killing it was no longer an option, clearly it hadn't worked. It had to be obliterated.  
Charon fired at the bomb held firmly in the suicider's remaining hand, all while racing along the uneven streets. The first shot hit a lamppost. The second was fired as Charon stumbled on some rubble, and it hit the ground.  
The third caused an explosion.  
It was deafening, and resulted in green flesh and gore rocketing high in the sky before raining upon Charon and Zion, now covered in sweat and panting like dogs in a hot car. Zion fell to the floor and sat, legs crossed for a silent minute before remarking. “Running backwards while shooting a suicider. God, I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”  
Charon didn't answer, and instead just glanced around in case the explosion had drawn more trouble. Zion continued. “Well, other than for the stunning conversations we have.”  
“The trail's ended.” Charon said, Zion quickly twisted around to see what he meant. The trail had led them to an old, worn out church that gave the impression it would have high ceilings and creaky doors. Zion looked around himself, but he couldn't see anything familiar. They started at one end of the trail, and clearly they were now at the other, and the the only way forward was to enter the church.  
“Looks like ghoul territory.” Zion observed, Charon nooded in agreement. Old, run down, often historical buildings were usually a good place to find ghouls. All they could do was hope anyone they met was friendly.  
They slowly entered, the door creaking so loud it could wake the dead, then deafen them. The air felt heavy with dust and the roof, holy in nature and structure, flooded the room with light, showing the wrecked room in all its lack of glory. Pews, half broken and rotting, were covered in so much rubble not even the congregation's prayers could fix them. The organ sat tilted, unplayed for centuries and silently yearning to be ticked once more. However, no amount of light could dispel the foreboding nature of the church. Nothing friendly could be living here.  
Yet lanterns painted white upon the walls seemed to be marking a path, enticing the duo to follow it further into the church. Zion left his power armour, removing the fusion pack, inorder to move more stealthily. They'd wasted a lot of ammo on the super mutants, they didn't want to use more than necessary. The less conflict they encountered, the better.  
Charon took the lead, his natural skill at sneaking allowing him to move through the church with relative ease, undeterred by the sleeping denizens. Any ferals that spotted him remained passive at his features, only realising once his knife had cut out their throats that he was no ally. Zion followed in his wake, counting his lucky stars for his best friend being there. For all his teasing, Zion did find Charon's companionship a pleasure, and he was glad that Charon had refused to let him travel to Boston alone.  
They quickly descended into the basement, a musky, waterlogged mess of tight passageways and green lighting. The rotting smell of wet ferals alerted them that they weren't out of trouble yet, but the guiding white lanterns urged them on. No point sneaking now, the tight passageways meant the two would likely have to step over any sleeping ferals, a trick Zion had yet to pick up, never mind master. He usually just accidentally booted the person awake.  
As they rounded the first corner, they heard the telltale groaning of a disturbed feral, shortly before they spotted it shuffling towards them. Arms curled up in its chest, mouth catching flies and eyes that seemed dead to the world, it was a sorry sight of what had been. Zion drew his pistol and shot the feral through the neck, causing it to fall into a quiet lump on the floor. They stepped around the fresh corpse only to spot more of his friends shuffling along as well. Three more bullets and they had all joined the first.  
They continued in silence, followed by the echoed dripping of water in the distance. They came across a few more shufflers that were easily dispatched. Finally, the corridors started to feel a little more 'final', but so did the ferals.  
When they reached the last corridor, they heard the telltale cry of a reaver, followed by two ghouls caught between shufflers and reavers in deadliness. Zion and Charon drew their guns and started firing. Duck and shoot tactics wouldn't work in here.  
They aimed for the reaver first, firing to his its throat or skull, anywhere to cause the most damage. Fights with reavers were short; someone always dies quickly and it's usually poorly prepared travellers.  
The reaver cleared the distance in seconds and started biting at Charon. Zion closed the distance for a more accurate shot, while Charon instead smacked the reaver with his shotgun's barrel. Zion got in three good hits to the reaver's head before his arm was grabbed and pulled back awkwardly and painfully. He struggled against the grip of the two ferals now snapping at him, his gun held at an angle useless to shoot at.  
Meanwhile, the reaver, still struggling with Charon and throwing its wailing arms into Charon's face, obscuring his view, finally managed to sink its teeth into Charon's arm. Charon jolted with a hiss, but used the opportunity to get the reaver unaware, the bullet tearing through the little remaining flesh beneath the reaver's chin, firing a confetti shower of skull and rotted brain into the passageway.  
Charon turned back to Zion, his arm bleeding heavily but largely ignored, and fired again, this time getting the two remaining ferals in the side of the skull. The bullets didn't leave, but whatever soul the ferals had did, as they crumpled to the floor, silent once more.  
Zion tried to loosen up his shoulders, rotating them carefully and tenderly after the rough handling of the ferals while Charon tried to stop his bleeding. Once Zion realised his friend's predicament, he stopped and quickly searched through his bag, pulling out a stimpack and handing it to Charon. Charon took it wordlessly, but Zion could tell he was grateful.  
They slowly made their way to the seal on the wall, Zion still wincing a little and Charon's arm hanging limply by his side. The seal, old and frankly quite ugly, seemed to be their way ahead.  
“Do you reckon it needs a passcode?” Zion asked, tracing the letters on the seal with his fingers. “Any idea what it might be?”  
“The seals on the trail had letters highlighted.” Charon remarked. Zion groaned loudly, he couldn't be arsed to travel the trail again, especially in their current state. Hopefully, he could guess it.  
“So, do we rotate the seal, or do we just shout it out?” Zion mused, twisting each segment of the seal until it finally moved. “Guess that answers my question.”  
Charon sat on a nearby pile of rubble while Zion tried to figure out what it might be. He tried lanterns, based on what had marked their path, but no change. He tried synths, because that was who the organisation was trying to save, but to no avail. Finally, he tried Railroad, the name of the organisation, and mechanisms whirled, dust shifted and the opening was made clear. Zion cheered to himself; he couldn't believe a super secret spy organisation had used its name as the passcode, but he was in and that was all that mattered.  
The passage behind the door was pitch back, and even the pipboy light didn't seem to cut through it as effectively as it should have. Regardless, Zion raced in, glad to be out of the feral infested tunnels, while Charon followed behind quietly. They were vaguely aware that they were in a large, open room when bright lights flashed on, dazzling them into covering their eyes. Beyond the blinding, they heard a woman's voice demand:  
“Stop right there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Railroad time! Also the chases by a suicider thing was something that actually happened to me in game while trying to find the railroad. Fun times.
> 
> Consider leaving a comment if you’re enjoying this so far. Or if you’re not.


	19. The Railroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zion strikes a deal with the Railroad.

Zion’s eyes quickly adjusted to the blinding light, a side effect from the years spent living in a vault with two light settings: blinding or black hole. Beside him, Charon was still shielding his eyes with his good and and taking a disorientated step back. A quick glance around the room revealed three people stood across a small ditch from them. Two of them were pointing guns at Zion and Charon. One of said guns was a mini gun.

“You went through a lot of effort to arrange this meeting. But before we go any further, answer my questions.” Instructed the woman from before. She was stood between the other two and was the only one not holding a gun, clearly the person in charge. With the mini gun aimed at his chest, Zion felt inclined to answer the questions. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Zion River, and this is my friend Charon.” Zion introduces himself, absent mindedly indicating Charon like they couldn’t figure it out for themselves. “I’m looking for the Railroad”

“Well you found us. But why were you searching in the first place?” The woman asked.

“I need to get into the Institute to save my friend. I thought if anyone knows where to start with such a task, it’ll be you.” Zion answered, the heavy artillery aimed at him making him feel too uneasy to turn on his usual charm.

“Even if we did have some inkling as to how to get in, what makes you think we’d share that information with you?” The woman stared daggers at Zion. Just beyond her however, Zion spotted a man in sunglasses and slicked back hair making his way forward. The woman turned to this new person in surprise. “Deacon, where have you been?”

“You’re having a party. What gives with my invitation?” The man, apparently named Deacon, asked in a cool, neutral tone.

“I need intel. Who is this?”

“Wow. News flash, boss, this guy is kind of a big deal in DC.” Deacon responded with an edge of playful shock to his voice.

“Intel? What, have you been stalking random people a lot of something?” Zion asked. This woman just asked so confidently for information on him despite clearly not knowing who he was. There was no other explanation, and it was creepy.

“Just gathering information we might need.” Deacon turned to the woman. “Have you never heard of Zion River? The Lone Wanderer? He brought fresh, clean water to all of DC by completing Project Purity for his father about 10 years ago, and it’s still going strong. Not to mention, what used to be the slavers haven in Paradise Falls is nothing but rubble now because of him. You’d think it would cause problems for The Pitt, who bought the slaves, except he dealt with the slavers there too. DC sleeps a lot easier and lives a lot better thanks to him.” Deacon told the woman, who seemed to not believe what Deacon was saying. How could stories of someone who’d done so much simply not spread to the Commonwealth in all that time?

“I helped some Railroad operative back then too.” Zion piped up. That whole event was such a dangerous mess that he wasn’t about to let it go unheard. “Something to do with a courser called ‘A3-21’.”

“I’d almost forgot about that.” Deacon said in an almost thankful time. “Des, he didn’t know what a synth, the Railroad or The Institute was, but he willingly put his life on the line to keep Harkness safe.”

“So, you’re vouching for him.” Des asked.

“Yes, trust me. He’s someone we want on our side.” Deacon informed her with an air of finality.

“That changes things. So, stranger, you want information? Well, so do we. Your help for us so far is noteworthy, and we’ll help you as much as we can to get you into the Institute. But once you’re in, you need to gather as much intel as possible for us. Do we have a deal?” Zion couldn’t see any other option but to accept. Any lead was better than no lead, even at the steep cost of spying on a super secret organisation that would kill him if he was found out. At least that part was a problem for future him. Although…

“So the agreement is, you give me this information and if it helps me get into the Institute, I do some spying for you?” Zion asked carefully, and Des agreed. “Great. I’m in.” He’d just have to send Courier in instead, the agreement didn’t extend to her.

“Awesome. So you gonna invite him in for tea and coffee or what, Des?” Deacon jokes. Des loudly sighed, clearly already a little fed up with him.

“No Deacon.” She said firmly. “As much help as Zion has been in the past, we don’t let people into our headquarters unless absolutely necessary.”

Des turned back to Zion and motioned for the gunmen to relax. They did so. “Recently a rather vital Institute mercenary makes Kellog was found dead in his hideout. We sent people to investigate and retrieve anything of interest, but we came back mostly empty handed. We did, however, get a mission file he’d been given. He was to kill an Institute scientist infected by FEV who’d run away and was hiding in the Glowing Sea. He might have the information you need.”

“So where abouts is he?” Zion asked, feeling a little bit hard done by. Surely that can’t be everything they’re offering in exchange for what they wanted doing?

“We don’t know.” Des admitted.

“Let me get this straight. There might be a scientist in a highly radioactive wasteland that might be alive and might be willing to help me by sharing knowledge he might have which might be able to get me into the Institute?” Zion asked incredulously.

“Good luck.” Des joked.

“If there were any more ‘mights’ we’d have an infestation.” Zion mumbled under his breath to Charon, before leaving the tunnels without looking back.

///////////////////

The stimpacks has worked well, meaning the duo were almost at 100% again by the time they’d reached Zion’s power armour. Zion didn’t need to ask Charon’s opinion on the situation; it was written across the ghoul’s face and he was **_pissed_**.

“That’s a big area to cover.” Charon commented, looking over Zion’s shoulder as he scrolled through his Pipboy map. “Where do we start?”

“Not the Glowing Sea, that’s for damn sure. We’ll go see our favourite reporter, she might know something about the settlements in the Sea. Ghoul cities or something.” Zion suggested, plotting the next stop as Diamond City before exiting the church.

Night had already fallen when they stepped out into the cool breeze. Zion switched on his head torch, but was suddenly aware of a distant, low droning noise. Vertibirds, multiple. Old memories long wished forgotten sprung to his mind, of soldiers in power armour and guns of energy. Enclave? Brotherhood? It was all a blur now.

Zion covered his ears and tried to ignore the thoughts, tried to push them out of his mind. Charon stood helpless, trying to distract his friend to little avail. This wasn’t the first time this had happened; vertibirds regularly flew over Megaton, but at least in DC you expected to hear them. At least in DC you were always prepared for them. They were caught unaware after a stressful day, and now they were stood defenceless in the open.

Charon glanced up to see what was causing the ruckus, only to spot the eyesore that was the Prydwin, surrounded by vertibirds mid flight. A booming voice broke the sounds of night and Zion’s laboured breathing.

“People of the Commonwealth. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are The Brotherhood Of Steel.” The voice rang out loud and proud. Charon glared at the airship, a gesture all but lost on to the distant soldiers. Meanwhile, Zion, having had enough for the day, threw his head back and roared loudly towards his old allies.

“Fuck you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. I had typed up nearly the entire chapter last night when my laptop freaked out and now ive lost everything on it as well as the laptop not working at all. I may have to take another break from posting until it’s fixed. 
> 
> I typed this one up on my phone but it’s less than ideal because it likes to correct my work to be in present tense rather than past. No idea why. If there’s any weirdness in the grammar of this chapter, blame the phone lol.
> 
> Poor Zion, I put him through so much. I kind of want to explore writing trauma more but I’m not quite confident with it yet and I don’t want to, I guess damage the story by writing it poorly. So I’ve gone with an anxiety attack until I’ve researched a bit more and feel a bit more confident. I’m very experienced with anxiety attacks lol.


	20. The Glowing Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zion and Charon go looking for Virgil

The room at the Hotel Rexford was still rented for them, so Charon had taken the lead and got them to the building in reasonable time, with help from Zion's Pip-Boy. They spent the night, and Charon let Zion sleep in as long as possible. It had been a long day, and they hadn't slept at all the previous night. Those vertibirds couldn't have flown past at a worse time.

Zion didn't start to stir until early afternoon the next day. Meanwhile Charon had only had a few hours sleep from his concern. He didn't really sleep much anyway, and spent his time checking their weapons, buying supplies and finding a decent meal to eat. Zion woke up miserable and feeling sick from over sleeping, but Charon's fore planning sorted him out; a good fry up works wonders to lift the spirits. They left soon after, headed to Diamond City to grab the bike and pick Piper's brains. They formulated a quick plan before they set off.

As expected, Duncan raced to Zion and told him everything that had happened in the time they'd been gone. Despite it being less than a day, the amount of stories Duncan had to tell made it seem like they'd been gone weeks. Zion was happy to spend the time with Duncan, while Charon asked Piper some questions.

“We need to find someone in the Glowing Sea. Does anyone live there?” Charon asked without so much as a greeting to Piper. Piper was a little surprised; it was the most she'd ever hears Charon say.

“There's a settlement of 'The Church Of The Children Of The Atom' there, they might point you in the right direction.” Charon thanked her and turned to leave, but Piper grabbed his arm. Charon continued to stare ahead of him. “You must've heard that big airship, right? The Brotherhood... Are the stories true? Are we in trouble?” Piper asked quietly. Charon slowly turned to her and took back his arm.

“You? No. Me? Yes. Expect a lot less mutants walking and advanced technology laying around.” Charon remarekd, before heading back over to Zion. They had a quick discussion and decided to stay in Diamond City for the night, and head out to the Atom settlement in the morning. They didn't fancy traipsing through the radioactive badlands at night unless absolutely necessary. Duncan was pleased, but they all said goodbye the night before leaving since they wouldn't have a chance in the morning.

This time they stayed in the Dugout Inn, the loud Russian owners gleefully renting them a room. A little ill-advised considering the two men they were renting it to were wearing so much armour that not a smidgeon of their identity could be discovered. As they prepared to retire to bed, Charon finally broke the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, 'talk' being used in the sense of Zion raving his head off to Charon while Charon silently listened. Zion sighed loudly and shook his head.

“Not really. It's just... I feel like we won't be able to ignore them this time, Charon. We raised a militia against them, and we'll probably need their help. Courier was right, we'll need firepower. We always do. And in the absence of the remnants...”

“A lot of soldiers admire you. Respect you. You could ask them.” Charon suggested.

“Yeah, like they'll betray their God-King. Face it, I'm gonna ave to kneel to Maxson and beg for his help. Courier won't do it.” Zion moaned.

“Even God-Kings bleed. You have a right to overthrow him.” Charon pointed out.

“Wow, should I just point my own gun at my own head too, Charon? They'd kill me.” Zion threw his arms up in the air in frustration. “Then what'd become of Megaton? Vault 101? Little Lamplight? I don't want a repeat of Underworld, never mind Rivet City.”

“You could talk him into shooting himself, then no-one can complain. You've done it before.” Charon suggested darkly, knowing full well Zion would never take that option again.

“No, I'd rather use my charms to help people, not persuade someone to commit suicide.”

“You'd save more people.”

“Look, just drop it, okay? I don't need a crisis of conscience right now. Anyway, the priority is saving RJ. Everything else can be ignored.”

Charon did drop it, but the two had a restless sleep afterwards, both concerned with what would eventually lead to a run-in with the Brotherhood of Steel. Charon hoped it wouldn't lead to their deaths, while Zion hoped it wouldn't lead to the destruction of his settlements.

Both were fairly certain it was an unreasonable hope.

//////////////////////

The time they set off early, their tyres moving swiftly over half-wrecked roads in the early morning sun. It was a peaceful time of day to travel; most raiders and gunners were too hungover from the night to pick a fight, and Super Mutants too drowsy to put up a fight. Everything else was too slow to catch the bike. Even with all the noise the engine made, they never spotted any trouble attracted to it.

The sky darkened as they approached the Glowing Sea, and Zion was forced to slow the bike down as the roads became more and more wrecked, to the point the roads even disappeared occasionally. Radiation storms crashed around them as the geigometer in the Pip-Boy crackled in a frenzy, desperate to inform Zion of the danger he was in.

They passed craters regularly, some empty, some filled with the debris of cars, homes, lives that were ended both literally and figuratively the day the bombs fell. Others were inhabited by radscorpions or feral ghouls. Glowing ones peppered the far distance.

They dismounted the bike and stored it in the ruins of the old house a short walk from where Piper had told them they could find the Children. They didn't want to cause a fuss by spooking everyone, nor did they want it stolen. Unfortunately, they weren't the only living creatures headed towards The Crater. Stood hunched between them and their destination was a deathclaw.

Horns curved over its face, body heaving with each steady breath and a gleam of hunger in its watchful eyes, the deathclaw made its way down to the crater, being as stealthy as a ten foot lizard can be.

“Maybe its friendly.” Zion joked quietly as he pulled out his Rock-It Launcher, now fully reloaded thanks to Charon's fore thinking. Charon took his lead and brought out his shotgun, as well as grabbing a grenade for himself and Zion. Zion quickly activated and threw down some landmines before the duo backed away. “Hey big guy! Come get some!” Zion taunted, causing the deathclaw to turn and roar at them. They took the opportunity to throw the grenades at the exposed belly before shooting to kill.

Unperturbed by the explosions and the bullets, the deathclaw raced at them. It moved on all fours, hiding its weak spot. Charon aimed at its eyes while Zion shot for the legs as they back pedalled away. The deathclaw hit the mines mid-stride, arms first, and the resulting face blew it onto its back. Zion and Charon let rip on its belly, firing as many bullets (and chair legs) at the deathclaw as possible. It didn't last long, and soon the deathclaw was back up and charging at them. Charon managed to get a bullet lodged in its left eye, but the deathclaw barely flinched, just closing the distance and butted Charon down towards the crater with a heavy thud.

It turned to Zion, now aiming at it's other eye armed to the teeth with high velocity spoons. The deathclaw madly struck at Zion through the rain of cutlery, leaving deep gashes in the metal of the power armour. Another strike and his helmet hit the floor. It swung again, this time leaving deep gashes across Zion's face and causing him to tumble to the floor from pain, shock and the sheer power behind the strike. Charon, still winded from before, shot at the deathclaw's legs until finally one gave away, leaving streaky sinew dangling outside the mangled leg. Now the deathclaw turned back to Charon with a tree shaking roar. Charon took the opportunity to shoot out its other eye. It raised its claws to its face in a pained cry, exposing its belly so Charon fired as quickly as his shotgun would allow, until eventually the deathclaw slumped to the ground, dead. Charon lay back on the floor, trying to catch his breath, while Zion grabbed his helmet and applied pressure to his wound.

Eventually, Zion made his way over to Charon, offering his friend a hand up to his feet. Charon took it gratefully, standing up and stumbling on the uneven ground. Their silence was broken by the unmistakable sound of energy weapon fire, the glow of which struck Charon square in his back.

Yet Charon seemed strangely unharmed, twisting to look at where the deadly shot should have struck him but seeing nothing. Stood ten metres away from the pair were four cultists, wielding gamma guns pointed at the two of them. Zion sighed at their plan.

“Did you really just shoot a ghoul with radiation?” He asked, exasperated.

“Who are you who dare trespass on Atom's hallowed ground?” Demanded the closest standing cultist. Zion groaned, knowing full well what he had to do next. Charon meanwhile watched with a sense of excitement, keeping his normal neutral face but dying to grin within. Zion was such a charmer because he knew how to charm such a variety of groups, sometimes by instinct and almost always with perfect success. And as for the Children of Atom...

“Greetings, fellow children.” Zion bowed as gracefully as possible while still holding a torn up cheek. “I am a Child from Megaton, searching for a dear friend in the Commonwealth. I was hoping you might be able to point me in the right direction.”

The cultists turned to each other, unsure what to think. “If that's true, tell us the teachings of Atom.”

“Why, within each of us is a million billion universes seeking separation from Atom's Glow to become what we're destined to be. Radiation and events such as The Great Separation are what help seperate these universes that they might thrive.” Zion recited in a mock tone of Confessor Cromwell. The cultists seemed pleased with it at least.

“Come, we will take you to Mother Isolde.” They commanded, as they put away their guns and walked towards the crater. Charon smuggled Zion a stimpack and a dose of Rad-X in case the cultists took offence in Zion's continued survival.

Thankfully, Mother Isolde lived in a wooden hut just to the boarder of the radioactive crater centre, else Zion might have found himself in dire trouble. She invited them to sit down, although Zion stayed standing in his power armour.

“Greetings, Child, you stand on Atom's hallowed ground.” Mother Isolde said airily. Zion gave her a warm smile.

“Thank you. I'm looking for someone called 'Virgil'. I was wondering if maybe you'd seen him?”

“Patience child, just let the warmth of Atom fill you.” Mother Isolde scolded, before taking a lonf breath. Zion gave Charon a pained look while she had her eyes closed.

“Mother Isolde, my friend is in danger, and I need to find Virgil in order to help my friend.” Zion tried again in a more pleading tone. Mother Isolde sighed.

“I can sense your desperation, child. Virgil lives in a cave nearby, but we haven't seen him for months. Not that we wanted to see him. His existence is an affront to Atom.”

“What? You didn't kill him, did you?” Zion demanded. He needed this lead to be fruitful, he hadn't anywhere else to turn.

“No, our guns are ineffective against his kind. Here, let me show you the location on your Pip-Boy.”

20 minutes later and Zion and Charon were headed back to the bike to continue they're journey. Once out of earshot of the Children, Zion whispered to Charon in an incredulous tone.

“Gamma guns? In the Glowing Sea? Everything is resistant to radiation! Might as well fight sunlight with a knife for all its worth.”

Charon agreed, he was amazed they were even still surviving out her considering their poor armour, weaponry and planning. He'd almost feel bad for them, if only they weren't infamous for trying to forcefully make people 'One with Atom'.

The cave wasn't too far but it was off the beaten track, meaning Zion and Charon once more had to ditch the bike and travel the remainder on foot. The cave was decently hidden too; they would have wandered past had Charon not spotted it out of the corner of his eye. Usual drill for caves: draw guns, Zion in front.

But as they travelled deeper into the cave, a smell iconic to their life permeated the area. Beyond the usual, musky stench of the damp, irradiated rock came the stench of decay. Zion and Charon rushed forward, only to find the shattered remains of turrets and the repugnant rotting corpse of a Super Mutant. The closest thing to a sign that someone had been here recently was destroyed documents covered in a thick layer of radioactive dust.

 _An affront to Atom_ , thought Zion. _So this Super Mutant must be..._

“Fuck!” Zion shouted, kicking the desk closest to him. His one lead was dead, and he was no closer to saving MacCready. He picked up a piece of turret and flung it at the opposite wall.

“Calm down, that'll achieve nothing.” Charon demanded, annoyed, but Zion kept on raging.

“Calm down?! What's there to be calm about? We're no closer to our goal and our only lead is dead.” Zion shouted before storming to a corner and slumping to the ground. Charon left him be, and instead searched the documents scraps for information, the drawers for a lead, the computer for a clue, but the documents were illegible, the drawers empty and the computer wiped. Although...

“Zion? This computer, it's been wiped remotely.” Charon called out. He wasn't the most knowledgable with computers, but the screen was not that of a computer that had been wiped in person. He'd seen plenty of those and this one was... different.

“The institute?” Zion asked, rushing over to stare blankly at the screen. Dammit, it was at times like this he'd wished he'd inherited more than just his dad's looks and charisma.

“Maybe. Reckon Courier could sort this out?” Charon asked, knowing it was a silly question. The woman had hacked RobCo to get the Pip-Boy communication feature 200 years after the world ended and RobCo became dust. Hacking the university that RobCo's founder graduated from would be child's play.

“Only one way to find out.” Zion replied, grabbing the computer and making his way out. “Think you can carry this on the way back?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE LAPTOP’s ALIVE!
> 
> Actually it was completely fucked, hard disc drive had such a malfunction that it needed completely replacing. Wow, way to go Lenovo. It was less than 2 months old. But it’s back and running now so all is good.
> 
> From my calculations I owe you guys up to chapter 24 (including the one from over Christmas) plus any that should have been released while I’m completing the back log. They won’t be released quickly I’m afraid, I’m helping with lambing so as well as being busy everyday my hands are knacked by the end so I’m not typing quickly lol. Also these chapters are getting longer and longer sooo...
> 
> But I have been writing while the laptop has been away so I have upto Chapter 28 finished and I’m nearly on Chapter 29. I don’t release chapters at the rate I finish them so I always have st least 1 chapter ‘floating’ in case I can’t write for a while because I’m, y’know, updating a backlog of chapters.
> 
> Back to the story, now it’s gonna switch to Courier and Preston, so that’ll be fun! Also have I mentioned that despite my harsh words back in Chapter 3, I’m really starting to love Zion River’s name? Because I do.
> 
> And chapter 20! Wow! That’s so many! Thanks for all the lovely comments and kudos, and please feel free to leave a comment. Thanks for your patience the last month.


	21. And Now For Somebody Completely Different

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Zion and Charon were getting a lead from the Railroad, Courier and Preston were trying to recruit settlements to the cause

The quad bike was exhilarating, if not completely terrifying. Whether it was normal for it to fly over hills of rubble or Courier just seeked the adrenaline rush of it all, Preston couldn't tell, and frankly he was worried to ask. They were headed north west to Oberland Station, the plan being to visit there, then Greygarden, County Crossing and Nordhagen Beach in order, hoping to recruit some settlements to kick start the minutemen. With Courier's nail biting travelling style, they got to Oberland Station quicker than Preston could've hoped.

 

“This is a common place for raider or Super Mutant attacks.” Preston informed Courier. “There people here will probably need help.”

 

“Alright. Off ya gan then.” Courier waved him along, Preston just staring at her. “Go talk to them.” She pushed.

 

“Well, I was kind of hoping you would, seen as you're famous, and famous for making alliances...” Preston trailed off.

 

“I don't think my method will work this time, Preston.” Courier told him deadpan, but at the look on his face she relented with a huffy 'fine'. The two settlers, sisters by the looks of it, had already exited their 'watch tower' to see the commotion. Courier drew her energy rifle, carrying it casually in one hand, and walked over to them with a purposeful air. “Ey! Have you seen some ugly wanker in a chequered suit come this way?” Courier asked, the settlers backing up in fear. Preston rushed over and whispered angrily in her ear.

 

“What are you doing?” He asked.

 

“Greeting them the same way I greeted all my allies, what does it look like.” Courier hissed back. “If you don't like it, do it yourself.” Courier stormed off, pleased she'd gotten herself out of a job. Preston sighed and turned apologetically to the settlers.

 

“Sorry about that. I'm Preston Garvey, of the Commonwealth Minutemen. Anything we can lend a hand with?”

 

Preston and the settlers discussed their problems and came to a reasonable agreement while Courier quietly checked over her bike. She didn't hear Preston approach since she was so absorbed in her work that Preston's voice caused her to jump.

 

“Some local raiders are causing problems. They've agreed to join the Minutemen if we clear the camp and help improve their settlement.” Preston gave her a look of 'sorry' when she jumped, but she shrugged it off.

 

“Killing and fixing up, huh? Aye, that's easy enough.” Courier agreed, climbing onto her quad bike with Preston clambering on after her. It was an outdoor raider camp made of old cars and propped up scrap metal a short drive from Oberland. The type of camp that was easily put up ad taken apart within hours, but the raiders seemed happily settled already. They parked up a short distance away on a dusty knoll, just out of sight of the raiders.

 

“They lay of the floor, readying their energy rifles when Courier spotted Preston's musket and had a sudden thought. “Wait, what's the range on that?”

 

“It's fine, don't worry. We're not out of range here.” Preston assured her. Anyway, he didn't really want a different weapon, he knew the laser musket so well now it felt like an old friend.

 

Courier nodded to herself and turned back to looking down her scope. She smiled to herself and commented under her breath: “Energy weapon, eh? Yer a man after me own heart, mister Garvey.”

 

“Typical weapon of the Minutemen, but it's reliable and does the job.” Preston replied proudly. He looked over at Courier's weapon, strangely sleek, new and well maintained compared to most weaponry he saw out in the wastes. “Your rifle sure is strange though. I've never seen a pump action energy rifle before.”

 

“Nah, neither had I. Shoots hard light too, not laser or plasma. But I love me holorifle, especially after the hell I went through to get it.” She affectionately stroked the barrel, before pinning her sights on a lookout raider standing close to the edge of the camp. “Ey up. They'll be alerted to the noise. Get ready.” Courier breathed yo Preston, who nodded and lines up his own shot on a raider to the left.

 

They fired nigh on simultaneously, the red laser from Preston's musket elegantly cutting the air, effortlessly felling the hit raider. Meanwhile, the hard light from the holorifle smashed into the other raider, leaving nothing but what looked like burned paper scraps. As suspected, the light show and the noise alerted the raiders, who immediately began searching the grounds.

 

Two raiders made the mistake of standing too close together, causing the hard light to hit the closest but both felt the after effects and started eerily glowing. Another raider was shot in the shoulder by a red laser, knocking him to the ground in pain to be finished by a second laser to the head. Warning shouts rose as Preston and Courier were spotted, and bullets started flying.

 

The two ducked below the knoll as bullets whizzed past, occasionally taking potshots at anyone who wandered too close. The distant clanging and space suit-like mechanical noises alerted them to a suit of power armour approaching. A quick glance confirmed their suspicions: the leader wore patched up power armour, wielding a power fist and headed towards them.

 

Courier's wicked grin was lost under her helmet as she dropped her holorifle to the floor and grabbed her axe. “Cover me!” She shouted to Preston as she clambered over the knoll. Preston couldn't believe his eyes, the axe didn't even have a blade! But the sudden appearance of a screaming woman waving an axe distracted the remaining raiders long enough for Preston to take them out, which might have been the plan.

 

Preston shot first at the least perturbed raider, who's gun was following Courier on her path. One well aimed laser at his throat stopped his trigger finger. A younger raider wielding a baseball bat, seeing her chance, ran towards Courier in excitement, only for her right knee to be blasted and her to fall into a heap on the ground. The third raider, now fully aware of what was going on, fired madly at Courier, just scraping her armour. The first laser shot the gun out of their hands, a trick Preston was silently proud of, while the second laser struck their chest. The other two raiders, still smarting from the holo effect, were taken down with shots to the shoulders.

 

Meanwhile, Courier engaged the leader, axe (now glowing a dark blue and humming) in hand. She swung it down at his chest plate, the light striking the metal and tearing it like a sharp knife through paper. The leader swung at her with their fist, but Courier ducked down, dragging the axe across the left leg plate. She aimed again at the chest plate, this time leaving a sizeable gash in the metal. The leader struck out again, this time getting Courier in the chest, sending her tumbling backwards, out of breath. The leader quickly approached her as she tried to push herself to her feet, but a flash of red stopped them in their tracks, the leader stumbling over with a laser burn clearly marring the exposed chest. The leader fell to the floor, dead.

 

Preston rushed over and helped Courier to her feet, handing her the beloved holorifle. “Are you alright?” Preston asked, concerned at her laboured breathing.

 

“Winded.” She gasped, trying to catch her breath. Preston examined the power armour on the leader, fingers tracing the twisted metal in awe.

 

“Is that some kind of energy axe?” Preston asked. Courier seemed to have a variety of weapons he'd never heard of before, never mind seen. Were they common place in Nevada?

 

“Protonic Inversal.” Courier replied, handing Preston the axe so he could get a closer look. “Very effective against anything metal. Pisses off the Brotherhood to no end.” She added proudly. Preston weighed it over in his hands. It was sleek, but somehow heavier than he imagined. The soft, spongy grip seemed to be an addition by the Courier. But it had ripped through power armour like it was nothing, making it undeniably impressive. He handed it back to Courier with an impressed nod of the head.

 

“It looks and feels like a weapon you'd use. From the stories I've heard, that is.” Preston added awkwardly. Courier just turned to the raider camp with a huff of relief.

 

“Alrighty, that's done. Should probably grab the weapons before we leave, like.” She suggested, crouching next to the leader's corpse and starting to wrestle them out of the power armour.

 

“Right. I'll look for some materials we can use to fix up Oberland Station while we're here.” Preston said, walking into the raider camp with his gun in his hands, just in case. Behind him, Courier yelled her agreement to his plan, before turning back to struggle with the suit once more.

 

//////////////////////////////

 

An hour later and the duo had returned to Oberland Station to be greeted by the thankful sisters, and the four of them started to work together to improve the settlement. Preston gave them a quick crash course in maintaining the old generator, using the weapons they'd salvaged and making supply runs to the nearby settlements. Meanwhile Courier worked silently to repair the damage she'd done to the power armour for the settlers to use, glad for the peace and quiet after a long day.

 

As night began to fall , the sisters insisted on Preston taking a break while they made food for them all. Preston retreated to sit and watch Courier work, blowtorch and hammer in hand.

 

“You sure seem to know what you're doing.” Preston observed with amusement, but Courier didn't acknowledge him. “Courier?” he asked, causing the Courier to turn as if just noticing him. “Have you done this before?”

 

“Aye, wanted to test out the axe at home. Raul, our repairman, got sick of fixing the suits afterwards so he made me do it instead, so...” She trailed off, head once again buried in her work.

 

“Well, clearly it engrosses you.” Preston joked, but Courier let out an anxious whine.

 

“It's not that. I'm just... not observant. Or personable. I like the quiet and when there's no one there to disrupt it.” Courier explained.

 

“Oh, sorry.” Preston apologised, standing up to leave.

 

“I didn' mean that! My perception is shoddy, is all. I get lost in myself in the quiet, don't notice people there. But if I didn't want ya 'ere, I'd tell ya.” Courier insisted. “Or I just wouldn't answer. Or I'd be terse. Look, Zion's the one for being subtle with words, not me. You'd know if I didn't want you 'ere.”

 

“You're just not chatty, and don't pay attention to your surroundings when you're focused on something.” Preston ventured, to which Courier vigorously nodded her head.

 

“Aye, not much into small talk when there's more fascinating things to think about. Now, if you had questions about electron excitation in photosynthesis or fluorescence, I'd be all for it.” She joked with a grin. “Or, like, books and shit.”

 

“Well, I'm up for engineering and comics, if you'd rather talk about those.” Preston replied. “I meant to ask, do you mind showing the settlers how to maintain their weapons? From what I've heard, it's a more vital skill to have outside of the Commonwealth.”

 

“You calling our weapons shoddy?” Courier asked in mock offence. “Nah, I'll show them. Just need some materials.” She banged on the power armour; it didn't look quite as good as new, but the gash was gone and it looked strong and firm. You could barely even tell she'd gone at it with an axe. “Not bad, eh?”

 

“Not bad at all.” Preston agreed. The sisters came out and handed Preston and Courier a cooked meal. They sat together and ate and chatted like old friends. Courier finished quickly and started to disassemble old junk for useful parts.

 

By the time Courier started to teach the sisters on basic gun maintenance, the sky had turned pitch black with stars shining bright and proud in the dead sky. Preston took the opportunity to relax for what felt like the first time in months, watching the stars and listening to Courier poorly stumble over her words, emphasising demonstrations over instructions.

 

But the peace couldn't last. They heard the distant drone of vehicles coming closer to where they lay. Courier's head whipped round in uncertainty, looking to Preston for his input, but Preston hadn't heard such a noise in years, in what felt now more like a dream.

 

“Vertibirds.” Courier explained, standing to her feet with a junk clock in hand. “There shouldn' be any 'ere.” She headed towards the noise, Preston standing and following her.

 

Through the night sky, as stealthy as a deathclaw in a whoopee cushion factory, flew a massive airship. Vertibirds circled it like vultures. Preston glanced at the Courier for a hint as to what was going on, but her face was unreadable.

 

“People of the Commonwealth.” Boomed a voice from the airship, Courier covering her ears with a jolt. “Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel.” The voice finished. Preston gazed at the passing titan in a mixture of awe and unease.

 

“These guys sure know how to make an entrance, no doubt about that. I wonder what they want?” He mused aloud, but added under his breath. “I kind of doubt their intentions are peaceful.”

 

“Argh! For fuck's sake!” Courier shouted angrily, hoying the clock at a nearby tree with a loud smash, before storming off in frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah the troubles of my poor, awful perception Courier. As a general rule my Fallout characters have a buff stat and a poor stat; Zion’s buff is 10 Charisma and his poor stat is 3 Agility, Courier’s buff is 10 Intelligence and her poor stat is 1 Perception. Without Ed-E she can’t even see enemies that aren’t on top of her lol.
> 
> If you got the reference of the chapter title, give yourself a pat on the back! If you didn’t, your homework is to go and watch more British comedy. Start with the Monty Python movies. Fallout 2 and New Vegas references them a LOT.
> 
> If my planning is correct, this is the mid-point chapter. There should be 42 chapters. And if you don’t get THAT reference, you need to read/watch/listen to more sci fi comedy. Start with Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy.
> 
> As always, feel free to leave a comment!


	22. A Whistlestop Tour Of The Settlements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Courier and Preston help out 3 settlements in need.

Courier and Preston left Oberland Station the next morning and arrived at Graygarden very quickly. Preston was amazed at the robot-run farm, watching the mister Handys fuss with the plants, and inspecting the expertly grown food with awe. Courier either didn't seem to notice or care about the farm's peculiarity and instead made a deal with Supervisor White that, in exchange for activating a water pump at the local water treatment plant, they'd join the Minutemen. Courier practically had to drag Preston away, back on their quest.

 

On the way they were overtaken by a vertibird, causing them to hide it out and watch as a machine gun mowed down the Super mutants occupying the treatment plant in a hail of bullets, only for one, single, well-placed bullet from one simple Super Mutant to kill the pilot and drag the vertibird, passengers and all, down to earth once more in a fiery blaze, the resulting explosion taking out the rest of the Super Mutants.

 

“Wow. That was... Something.” Preston said with a low whistle. Courier led the way into the purifying plant, stepping carefully over burning rubble.

 

“Most help the Brotherhood's ever been to someone from the West Coast.” She joked. The plant was dotted with turrets and mirelurks, but a quick bit of hacking of a nearby terminal shut all the turrets down. All it took then was camping with the laser weapons to take out the remaining mirelurks for a clear path to the drain to restart the water plant.

 

Supervisor White was very thankful and agreed to help the Minutemen via instructing nearby settlements on farming, as well as trading crops to other settlements. Courier and Preston left not long after, pleased of a quick job. They left a gift of broc flower and xander root for the Handy's to figure out how to grow.

 

/////////////////////

 

“I've heard stories of the Brotherhood.” Preston mused. They'd stopped for lunch on the way to County Crossing. It was nothing spectacular, just some vegetables from Graygarden, washed and raw, but it filled a hole.”You and Zion seem to be really against them though.”

 

“They take credit that isn't theirs.” Courier answered between bites. “They like to say the helped stop the Master, yet they laughed in the face of the Vault Dweller and did less to help than pacifistic doctors. They also like to take credit for destroying the oil rig, but, like, the Enclave were a stronger help and they were trying to stop the Chosen One!”

 

“And, apparently, they like to stop people knowing who Zion is.” Preston added. Courier turned to him with a dark look.

 

“Nowt 'apparent' about it. Dangerous thing, people having their basic needs met for free. Pretty soon they get ideas like 'These people in power are shite! We don't need them! We have pure water!', then tyrants have no-one to rule over. Can't let that spread 'round. Who would the Brotherhood bully then?”

 

“Y'know, I'm really starting to like you.” Preston said, playfully bumping into the Courier.

 

////////////////////

 

County Crossing was the worst placed settlement imaginable. Situated near a heavily irradiated nuclear power plant with raiders, ghouls and Super Mutants a s neighbours, this prime piece of real estate boasted mutfruit and... nothing much else.

 

The two settlers practically threw themselves at Preston and Courier when they offered assistance. Their problems were a mile long but the most pressing was the feral ghoul pack that had been giving them trouble the past few days. It wouldn't be long before the entire pack swarmed them.

 

Courier suggested taking to the roof of the settlement's main building to snipe the ferals as they approached. The settlers joined them without planning to help; away from the floor meant away from the ghouls. Courier offered Preston the holorifle to have a go with.

 

“You sure about this?” he asked, taking the weapon from her hands with much uncertainty. Sure, it was a fascinating weapon that he couldn't help but admire, but he wasn't used to scopes, not to mention the fear he might break the beloved gun. Courier just shrugged.

 

“Just point it roughly in the right direction and shoot, it'll do the rest. Anyway, I really wanna get my hands on your musket.” She said with great enthusiasm, moving her fingers to beckon the weapon into her hands. Preston handed it over with a smirk.

 

The ferals came into range, skulking close to the floor. Preston aimed for the central ghoul, knowing the optics effect would damage more ghouls that way, while Courier tried for head shots on the nearest ferals. What followed was a beautiful light show of fluttering white and piercing reds, striking the ferals to an opera of growls and roars. When the laser dust and holo flakes settled on the wasteland, Preston and Courier climbed down once more to the thankful cheers of the settlers.

 

////////////////////////////

 

“Why'd you join the Minutemen?” Courier asked, breaking the silence they'd been working in. County Crossing had farming down, so instead Preston and Courier were building turrets to protect the settlement. The silence had been an easy one, but with the radio station strangely quiet and questions burning in their minds, Courier felt it necessary to try and figure out what morals drove Preston to this place. Especially since most people thought her own were incomprehensible.

 

“I wanted to make a difference. Pretty cliched but I always admired the Minutemen as a kid. And while the going was good, I feel like I did make a difference, but now...” He trailed off sadly.

 

“Now you're the general and you'll make even greater difference.” Courier finished in a matter-of-fact tone. Preston chuckled.

 

“Well, that's the plan anyway. Although, I doubt we can go anywhere but up from here.” They worked in silence a while longer, with Preston breaking it this time. “I didn't think The Courier would've been such an idealist though.”

 

“I don't think it counts as idealism if you kna it'll happen.” Courier joked, giving Preston a warm smile.

 

“Wish I had your confidence.” Preston muttered, but there was a great deal of comfort in having such support from such a fabled character.

 

The future of the Minutemen felt a lot more certain in that quiet moment shared between the two friends.

 

/////////////////////////////////////

 

Nordhagen beach was the next settlement on the list, and was visited first thing the next day. Having been abandoned once before recently, an Asian woman and her three children, aged between 12 and 6, had settled there after leaving DC. Upon Preston introducing himself and the Courier and offering their services, the woman looked very relieved. She was more than willing to join the Minutemen, but she required desperate help. They'd fled DC to escape an ex-husband, but he'd followed them with his Talon Merc friends. Now they'd taken her eldest and threatened that she'd never see him again unless she returned to DC with said ex. Courier and Preston were all too happy to help.

 

The plan was simple: Preston stayed at Nordhagen in case the merc's returned to scare the mother, while Courier headed to the mercenary camp to 'sort them out'. Preston silently wished he could see it unfurl, but the fear on the children's faces made sure he stayed.

 

Courier left the quad with Preston and walked to the camp on foot, helmet on and weaponry displayed. She explained her reason to be there with the guards, and sauntered unhindered towards the ex husband.

 

“So did my whore of a wife tell you why I'm here?” he sneered at the Courier. Courier could spot the kidnapped child cowering as far from him as possible, and she knew exactly how she was going to play this.

 

“Aye. You're crap in bed and take it out on her, so she dumped your arse but you're too ugly to find someone new.” She stated, inwardly smiling as she saw the child suppress a giggle. The ex raced forward in fury, trying to intimidate her with his height and muscles (or relative lack thereof).

 

“What the hell did you just say? I'll gut you and string you up by the rafters.” He threatened. Unperturbed, Courier took a lazy step back and wafted the air in front of her nose.

 

“Wow. Do you have, like, any other typical 'bad guy' threats? Look, mate, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice.”

 

“Why would I ever hand my son over to you, you stupid bitch?”

 

“Well, that's the hard way out then.” Courier shrugged.

 

“You're outnumbered! What makes you think a fight is the 'easy' way?”

 

“Because,” Courier paused, stepping closer to the ex, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. “I'm The Courier.”

 

//////////////////////////////

 

“They just ran away?” Preston asked, bewildered but impressed. Courier shrugged with a smile, watching the joyful reunion of the family.

 

“The ex didn't, but a well placed knife to the heart as I did the reveal sorted him out. Everyone else shat their pants and legged it once their suspicions were confirmed.”

 

“Man, wish I could deal with raiders and mercenaries like that.” Preston joked. It would make the job so much easier.

 

“Eh, defeat a couple of armies first and the rest'll come naturally.” Courier joked back.

 

The food was growing well but the shelter was too small, and the beds too few, so they set about improving the living conditions and building purifiers and generators. It was peaceful work, but late afternoon it got interrupted.

 

The bike could be heard a mile off, and the bizarre sight of a power armoured man, a ghoul and a computer all balanced precariously on the back of it quickly caught everyone's attention. Courier sighed and walked over to greet them. Zion meanwhile decided to pull a power slide, as if to impress Courier.

 

She seemed uninterested.

 

“Thought you were gonna call us first.” Courier complained, arms crossed across her chest. Zion climbed off the bike and shrugged at her.

 

“Didn't have to. You're all that the radio station's been talking about.” Zion replied, tapping his Pipboy for emphasis. Courier's brow furrowed.

 

“News shouldn't a spread of us being here so quickly.”

 

“Ran into a Talon merc, he told me what happened.”Zion grinned at Courier. “I seriously can't believe you.”

 

“What's with the computer?” Courier asked, changing the subject as she helped Charon find a surface for it.

 

“We reached a bit of a dead-end. The contact I had had next to no leads, the only lead the gave us lead to a dead guy. This is his computer.” Zion explained, resting his hand on the monitor. Courier turned to Preston and, with a simple nod, conveyed to him to start grabbing some wires to connect it to the small generator they had set up for the water purifiers.

 

“And you want me to hack into it for info?” Courier asked.

 

“No, it's not locked and it's been wiped. Remotely.” Zion slowly and hazardly explained. “ So I was thinking, maybe you might be able to...?”

 

“Hack into the Institute with it? I'm not sure... I'm more used to RobCo's computers and systems. Then again, House was from CIT, they probably used his OS with pride. Wonder if they thought to change it after my hostile take over of the company...” Courier started wittering to herself, sitting at the now powered computer and starting to tap away. Zion led Preston and Charon away to give her some peace as she worked.

 

“Excuse me.” The woman from the settlement asked, cautiously approaching Zion. “Are you Zion River? The Lone Wanderer?”

 

Zion's face lit up in delight. “Yes, I am! Can I help?”

 

“Oh, no, no, just, we're from the Capitol Wasteland. I've been hearing the most fantastic stories of you for the past decade and telling them to my kids for years. I'm a little starstruck.” She admitted, looking a little flustered. “Actually, I think my kids would like to meet you, if that's alright?”

 

“Sure! I'm up for that!” Zion flashed a wide smile at Charon and Preston before following the lady towards her waiting children. Within minutes the children were enraptured by Zion, hanging on his power armour, feeling his Rock-It Launcher and listening intently to his stories.

 

“Zion seems to be enjoying the attention.” Preston stated, trying to spark conversation with Charon.

 

“He never gets it.” Charon replied, watching with veiled joy at his employer clearly enjoying the boundless excitement of the children at meeting a real-life hero.

 

“The Brotherhood really do try and stop knowledge of his existence then?” Preston asked, voice laden with sympathy as he saw just how much Zion appreciated the attention. Charon didn't reply, and instead continued to silently watch his employer. When the children finally recognised him however, Charon turned and quickly walked away, trying to avoid the flock of children now trying to get his attention.

 

//////////////////////////////////////

 

As night fell, Zion returned to where Courier was sat, the computer now powered down and instead examining her Pipboy screen. She didn't look up as he approached, or reply a greeting when he greeted her.

 

“Brotherhood's in the Commonwealth.” She stated. Zion inhaled sharply; he knew this conversation was coming but he'd wanted to put it off as long as possible.

 

“Yeah.” He replied, not knowing what else to say. “What are we gonna do?” He asked in a quiet, almost shaky voice. Courier looked over to him and tried to give a comforting look.

 

“Avoid them and hope they fly all their vertibirds into the sea?” She joked. “Eh, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it, Zion. Don't worry so much, though. I'm telling you, they all still love you. Well, except Maxson of course, but he can go to hell. You'll be fine, it's my head they want.”

 

“Changing the subject.” Zion interrupted, pointing to the computer. “What did you find?”

 

“Only way in is by teleporting.” Courier answered, but seeing Zion's face fall she tried to perk her voice up. “So I nicked their blueprints to make one before they shut me out.” She raised her Pipboy triumphantly. “It's all on a holotape.”

 

“I can feel a 'but' coming.” Zion muttered. Courier cringed.

 

“Buuuuut... I didn't get the... code, I guess? That'll let us hook up our teleporter with theirs.” She paused as Zion sighed. “But I do kna how to get one.”

 

“It's not going to be easy, is it?” Zion asked, sounding resigned to the fate of his life.

 

“It's never bloody easy, man. You should know this by now.” Courier smiled, turning to Zion and reclining in her chair. “The Institute have, like, super agents called Coursers. They use the teleporters all the time. The data with the blueprints showed that they have special chips in their brains that allow it. That's where we'll find the code. Other than that, the blueprints just said the code was property of the SRB, or summat.”

 

“So we need to kill a courser?” Zion summarised.

 

“Aye. Simple, really.” Courier shrugged, before turning back to her PipBoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A courser, eh? Should be simple for our heroes, right?
> 
> Btw that’s not just Courier coming up with things against the Brotherhood Of Steel. In Fallout 1 they would taunt and laugh at a low INT Vault Dweller and reguse to help them. If you did get their help they only helped outside of The Cathedral, the Followers would follow you inside the Cathedral and help fight there too.  
> And in Fallout 2, they are fairly missable. The Enclave does help more if you convince a patrol of soldiers to fight Frank with you, or if you steal their power armour and weaponry at Navarro. Just little hints to previous games since Bethesda won’t put in much.
> 
> Also didn’t get the seasonal job. So I’m still doing the 8 hour shift heavy labor job every day. The chapters are also getting longer so I might still have to drop to 1 chapter a fortnight. Hope no one minds.
> 
> Please leave a comment if this fic made you feel anything at all, whether it’s hot and complete anger, I like to hear from you!


	23. Shhh, We’re Hunting Coursers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We’re going on a courser hunt we’re gonna kill a mean one. What a beautiful day! We’re not scared!

X6-88 was sat by the window, watching the gate to Diamond City. His wounds had mostly healed by this point (although they were still a little sore), but he'd yet to make any progress on getting Duncan. The child remained in the city, heavily guarded by his friends. X6 needed a plan, but no inspiration was lending itself.

 

Footsteps trudged up the stairs behind him. They were quiet, muffled. Most wouldn't have heard them, but X6 was expecting a visitor after all.

 

“Z2-47, I appreciate you coming, but I am no further in my mission.” X6 explained, not turning to face Z2-47.

 

“That's not why I'm here.” Z2 stated, making his way more naturally over to X6 than would be expected of a courser. Z2 sat down across from X6.

 

“Then why?” X6 asked, finally looking over to Z2, trying to figure out if the reason was a good one, or whether he should jump out the window while he had a chance.

 

Z2 meanwhile turned away from X6 to inspect the contents of the room. X6 had been here a few days now; it was becoming less of a base and more of a home. Rubbish had been cleared, a bare minimum of dusting had occurred. Even the walls had new paintings. Z2 was almost glad he hadn't been asked to report on X6, and that his mission was just to convey a message.

 

“Your assignment has changed.” Z2 explained.

 

/////////////////////////

 

No-one was quite sure how to find a courser, but Zion knew at least one way to get a courser to find them. It meant going back to Diamond City, so the 4 of them jumped onto their vehicles and took off, reaching their destination under a star lit night.

 

Duncan was over the moon to see them all again, but with it now being past his bed time the reunion was quick. Zion gave a quick rundown of the situation to Nick, Piper, Codsworth, and Curie, and explained his plan.

 

“You want to lure out X6-88 using Duncan as bait? Have you lost your mind?” Nick snapped, barely believing what he was hearing.

 

“Do you have a better plan to find a courser?” Zion snapped back.

 

“And what if we fail to kill him? We might as well just hand Duncan over.”

 

“I wanna help!” Duncan butted in, somewhat scared, but wanting to do his grandad proud.

 

“It's too dangerous!” Nick shouted.

 

“It's just one courser, Nick. Surely we could overpower him between us...” Piper hazarded, but her face showed her disapproval.

 

“There's gotta be a better alternative.” Preston said, sharing Piper's exasperated look.

 

“Please stop this bickering, it's far too late at night to be talking this loudly.” Codsworth scolded.

 

“Welp, I'm out of here.” Courier announced with a wave, exiting the Publik and closing the door behind her, still hearing everyone clearly through the wall. With a sigh, she leant against the door for a minute to collect herself, before walking out of Diamond City's gates.

 

Preston was right, there had to be a better solution, and now outside in the cold, quiet night, Courier examined the nearby houses. None had any lighting or noise coming from them, and all had excellent views of the gates. They were a good place to start.

 

She explored the least wrecked house first, being careful to be quiet but wielding her axe, just in case. As she climbed the steps to the first floor, she heard a voice call out.

 

“I know you're there.” It was slow, deliberate, but with an edge of cockiness that the speaker had figured her out. Not to be outdone, Courier switched the axe on and marched up the remaining steps as loudly as she could, turning into the room with a bland, neutral expression.

 

“So, you're the guy who's been stalking a child, like?” Courier asked, noting that X6 wasn't even holding a weapon. He simply stood by the window watching her.

 

“As is my assignment. The Institute knows you hacked into their databases.” He stated, almost daring her to refute it.

 

“So? You kna why I'm here then.” She replied, raising her axe and swinging it through the air.

 

“Don't be so brash. As part of my assignment I am unable to teleport to the Institute. Killing me will get you nowhere.” X6 explained, and Courier suddenly realised why he was so calm and unarmed.

 

“You kna where a courser is, don't ya?” Courier asked quietly, X6 nodded smugly. “And the Institute knows we're trying to break in. They want us to break in. Why?”

 

“Their reasons are unimportant, and I have not been informed of them anyhow. However, I I understand they want you to prove yourself by getting to them. A list of coursers and their locations has been provided.” X6 indicated the holotape sat on a side table. “Of course, I doubt you'll succeed. The people of the Commonwealth are terrified of coursers, and so they should be.”

 

Courier grabbed the holotape and examined it in her hands before sneering at X6. “I don't follow orders well. Institute'll get nowt from me.”

 

“You'd do well to start practising obedience then, if you ever want to see MacCready again.” X6 sneered back. Courier just tutted and went to leave, stopping to admire some artwork as she left, turning to X6 with a grin.

 

“Nice picture. Did you paint it yourself?”

 

/////////////////////////////

 

No-one was talking now; Duncan had gone to bed and everyone was worried that ringing up the topic again would just start another screaming match. Now they just sat quietly, stewing in their own thoughts for a plan to find a courser, giving each other angry looks, and wondering where Courier had gone. She'd slipped out relatively quietly so no-one could figure out just how long she'd been gone, but it had to have been a while.

 

Eventually Courier re-entered, quietly letting herself in and softly closing the door. As she turned around she noticed all eyes were on her. She hummed softly, unsure, to herself for a brief moment. “I've got a location on a courser.” She announced.

 

“What? How?” Zion demanded, his eyebrows furrowed.

 

“Arcade. We couldn't hack back into the Institute's database but we did find a signal being emitted from a courser, they seem to be heading towards the Salem Witch Museum.” Courier explained.

 

“Arcade sure is handy with technology for a doctor.” Zion dead panned. He could see it was a lie; Courier was the hacker of her squad, not Arcade. She wouldn't have needed his help.

 

“Always knew there was a reason we kept him around.” She joked back, not meeting Zion's eyes. “Look, how's this. Zion and Charon drive the vehicles, Piper and Nick hitch a ride. I'll stay here with Duncan, Preston, Codsworth and Curie in case X6 comes back, alright?”

 

“It's better than using a child as live bait.” Nick agreed, side-eying Zion.

 

“Oh, give it a rest, Nick.” Piper scolded. “We have a lead, that's what matters. We need to check it out.”

 

“Right. I'm up for it if everyone else is.” Nick conceded. A general buzz of agreement echoed around the room. As they started to leave, Zion cornered Courier.

 

“What's the matter?” He whispered urgently.

 

“Nowt. Give my regards to the courser.” Courier whispered back with a wink, walking away from Zion too hurriedly for comfort.

 

/////////////////////////

 

The grounds surrounding the museum were filled with clean picked bones and rotting carcasses alike. Whatever had been killing here had been indiscriminate between man and beast. Claw marks and horn scratchings marred the old building.

 

“Deathclaws.” Piper warned, and Zion agreed. The front doors were barricaded, the only entrance being through the cellar, which they all piled in, only to regret quickly. Outside the smell had been bad, but the abundance of fresh air had made it tolerable. The air here was stagnant and reeking of death, and the amount of willpower necessary to stop themselves from retching was impressive.

 

They quickly moved forwards, keeping together with guns in hand, but halted as they heard the roar of a deathclaw, followed shortly by rapid laser fire and boots scraping against the old wooden floorboards. They moved quickly beneath the noise of the fight; the courser was no good to them if the deathclaw devoured their head first. They saw flashes of blue between wooden slats as the courser fired perfect shots. Floorboards creaked where the courser had stepped, and smashed where the deathclaw leapt.

 

They barely made it to the steps before they heard the dying roar of the Deathclaw, only for a second to be echoed from a distance. The second sounded grieved, but livid. More heavy footsteps pounded across the floor, followed by the sound of a courser thrown through a thin wall with a loud 'ooph'.

 

Zion and Charon raced up the stairs, followed shortly after by Piper and Nick. Stood in the centre of the museum, chest rising and falling steadily for such a battle ready creature, stood a Deathclaw matriarch. Energy scorches marred her body where the courser had got in a few good shots. She moved slowly towards the courser, cautious of them standing up again.

 

Zion motioned for Nick and Piper to shoot first, at the head, while the Rock-It Launcher warmed up. Charon retreated to a safe, concealed spot to shoot.

 

The shots fired out, both bullets hitting the deathclaw's skull with little damage. Nick and Piper kept firing, slowly retreating back towards Charon. The deathclaw turned and roared, exposing it's weak belly to the ready, and fully loaded, Charon and Zion.

 

Shotgun shells and forks alike cut the air and the sensitive skin before the deathclaw saw her mistake. By the time she'd crouched to pounce, the wounds were breaking further and deepening from the movement and she stumbled. Zion dropped the Rock-It Launcher and drew his combat knife, running recklessly towards the flinching Deathclaw, plunging the knife as deep in her chest as it could go. With a desperate roar she swung out, throwing Zion against the wall. Piper stood and fired the final shots towards the knife wound until the deathclaw fell silent once more.

 

They all took a moment to compose themselves, thankful for the short lived fight. But something didn't seem right. “Wasn't the courser just there a minute ago?” Nick asked, pointing to a now empty patch of ground where the courser had lay a few minutes ago.

 

“Now, open the door nicely and I won't have to cause harm.” The courser's voice pierced the air, clear and forceful, but somewhat quiet, like they were trying to not let Zion's gang hear. Charon took off at a run, catching the courser unaware as he kicked them square in the ribs, causing the courser to stumble slightly. Zion, Nick and Piper raced on behind to catch up.

 

The courser lunged forward, grabbing Charon with a look of disgust, their fists closed tight around Charon's wrists, but Charon quickly circled down his hands and kicked the courser in the stomach. The courser instead reached for his gun but Charon quickly tackled them, yanking the gun from their grasp and throwing it to Zion, who caught it effortlessly.

 

The courser realised Charon wasn't the best target and instead quickly glanced around for a better hostage, their eyes laying upon Piper. As Charon threw a punch the courser dodged and shot towards Piper, grabbing her in a choke hold

 

He made a terrible choice, and the most ill-advised decision possible.

 

Piper ducked her chin down, grabbing the courser's arm with both hands. She stepped to the side and landed a swift punch to the groin, followed by an elbow to the chin. In this time Nick cleared the little remaining distance to get a good shot without the risk of shooting Piper. Piper, now out of the hold, joined in, and the two of them shot until the courser lay motionless in a pile of blood.

 

Then, as they stood in silence collecting themselves, they heard soft sniffling behind the bathroom door. Zion knocked on it softly.

 

“It's alright, the courser is dead now.” Zion said as soothingly as possible. He heard shuffling from behind the door.

 

“I don't trust you. I'm not leaving until you leave.” Came a terrified but defiant voice. Zion stepped closer, so his lips practically touched the rotten wooden door.

 

“Smart move, but if you need a place to live, Megaton in the Capitol Wasteland will always welcome you.” He whispered. He heard a soft 'okay' from the other side and stepped back to address the courser corpse. “What now?”

 

“We're looking for some chip in his brain, right?” Piper repeated the instructions. “Anyone know what that'll look like?” The general consensus around the room was a firm 'no'.

 

“As disgusting as this'll sound, maybe we could just take the head with us?” Nick suggested. “Give it to someone who knows what they're doing.”

 

Charon drew his knife and performed the deed quickly, as soon as it was suggested. He picked up the head, using the ears like candles and tossed it towards Zion. “Lead the way.” He motioned, Zion doing so and unblocking the front door and leaving quickly. Piper noticed Charon staring like he wanted to say something.

 

“Everything alright Charon?” She asked warily. Charon pointed behind him.

 

“That was impressive.” He said simply, without the tone to match, but Piper didn't mind.

 

“That wasn't my first choke hold People seem to enjoy trying to kill me. I just take it a s a compliment.” She joked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! A deathclaw! A big, mean deathclaw. We can’t go under it, we can’t go over it. Oh no! We’ve got to go through it! *gun shots*.
> 
> I have a cold an I’m miserable and that seemed like a funny joke, so enjoy that.
> 
> Friendly reminder that X6 literally states that he’s used a certain ‘technique’ before when you take him to Pickman’s gallery. It’s not his job to kill and creatively desecrate raiders, so clearly he paints as a hobby. Anyway it’s cannon to the story now and there’s nowt you can do about it.
> 
> Also Charon can’t stand people that harm innocent people, be it Azruhkal or the Lone Wanderer, he’ll kill either of them for doing so. He 100% would kick someone in the ribs for threatening a terrified person locked in a toilet.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed this chapter, this story, or my jokes made out of being sick and fed up with a blocked nose. I don’t even have a sense of smell, cold virus bacteria thingy, what’s the actual point?


	24. Reaching boiling point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maxson demands Zion visits him on his ship.

Preston and Courier had settled down for the night, Preston on the settee and Courier on the floor, at her own insistence. Neither of them felt the drive to chat and Courier was going out of her way for a bit of peace and quiet, so they lay and read instead. Preston was finally finding out what 'La Fantoma!' was about while Courier enjoyed an old sci-fi.

 

“Where's grandad?” Came a small, sleepy voice. The duo turned to spot Duncan, in pjs and rubbing his eyes, glancing around the room sadly.

 

“He's gone out for a bit. What's wrong?” Preston asked, his face a picture of concern.

 

“Can't sleep. I wanted a story.” He muttered quietly, almost embarrassed to say it. Courier shrugged and stood up, leading Duncan back to bed.

 

“Din worry, I've got a story.” She soothed, smiling at Preston, who just looked more concerned. Courier tucked Duncan in without skill but a lot of thought, and sat on the edge of the bed. “This 'un was my favourite.” She reminisced quietly, before starting in a soft, rhythmic, sing-song voice. “Dennis the monster was 5 and a bit, and not very scary I have to admit. He was kind to dumb animals, insects and plants, and gave up his seat to his elderly aunts.”

 

////////////////////////////

 

Now outside the museum, Zion started up the quad knowing leaving Charon on the bike, Piper climbed on behind Charon while Nick rode with Zion, and they rode off, the loud engines causing a stir as they went.

 

They journeyed as quickly as possible, hoping to put off sleep until they got back to Diamond City. But fate had other plans. A vertibird had started to trail them, following from above at an uncomfortable level of closeness. Eventually it overtook them only to land on the road ahead, blocking their path. 3 BoS soldiers stepped off, fully kitted out in power armour with heavy weaponry. Zion got off the quad and marched towards them, thoroughly pissed off and with a heavy case of 'too tired to deal with this bullshit'.

 

“What the fuck is the meaning of this?” Zion demanded, stamping his foot against the ground. “Can't we just get home in peace?”

 

“At ease civilian. We are the Brotherhood of Steel, we just thought your party was worth investigating.” The front paladin tried to assure Zion, very unsuccessfully. “Why exactly are you travelling the Commonwealth, past midnight, on restored vehicles, with two abominations?”

 

“How dare you? Don't you know who I fucking am, you cheap tin soldier?” Zion raged, pulling his helmet off to surprised and embarrassed gasps.

 

“Sentinel River! Forgive us, we didn't realise it was you, sir.” The same paladin apologised, but Zion wasn't ready to let it go.

 

“Who else has winterised T-51 b and a motorbike? Who else would it be? Learn some manners before you insult a stranger's friends and their shared interest in late night motoring.” Zion cussed them out while the soldiers shared awkward glances. “Now get out of our way so we can get past.”

 

“Actually, Sentinel, Elder Maxson has put out an order for any patrols that find you to bring you to him.” The second soldier, a young male knight, squeaked nervously.

 

“Is that so? What are you going to do about it?” Zion asked smugly.

 

“Keep the vertibird in your path until you come with us?” The third one suggested. Zion scoffed.

 

“The vehicle goes off-road.”

 

“Your bike doesn't, just the quad.” The paladin called Zion's bluff, now sounding thoroughly annoyed. “Look, come with us or we'll have to drag you back.”

 

“Think you can overpower me?” Zion sneered. “Bet I've got 5 years training on the most senior of you.” The first paladin responded by walking up to Zion and whispering in his ear.

 

“Maxson wasn't best pleased about your little rebellion, Zion. I suggest you speak to him before he retakes Megaton by force, now that we know you're not there.” She warned quietly. Zion stepped back in disgust but, defeated, he turned to his gang.

 

“Charon, drive the bike. Piper, drive the quad. Go back to base, we'll speak later, okay?”

 

“I get to drive the quad?” Piper asked excitedly, moving into the driver seat while Nick scurried to sit behind Charon instead.

 

“It goes off road, you can't fuck it up too much. Just don't crash into a building.” Zion advised. He spotted Charon frowning out of the corner of his eye. “I'll be fine, I'll be home before you know it.” He gave a quick wink before heading to the vertibird.

 

The ride was uncomfortable, the two younger soldiers wanted to know everything about Zion after all the fantastic stories they'd heard growing up in DC and training in the BoS, but Zion preferred to remain silent, watching buildings zip by below him and trying to distract himself from the ever present feeling of dread at the coming meeting. The vertibird twirled gracefully into it's designated spot on the hangar and Zion stepped off alone. He turned to the soldiers in confusion.

 

“Aren't you coming with?” he asked.

 

“You can't exactly escape.” The paladin said with a shrug before the vertibird took off. Zion glanced around the hangar, but it seemed empty. He found himself yawning, and decided it was time to sleep.

 

He briefly explored the Prydwin, enough to find a bed and that was it. Removing his power armour he collapsed onto the bed, almost immediately falling into a restless slumber.

 

////////////////////////////

 

Giggling woke him up the next morning along with exaggerated shushing noises. Zion opened his eyes to see three squires staring at him in awe. Still half asleep, he mumbled and turned over, only for the whispering to continue. He shot up, turning to glare at the squires, and instead spotted a surprise, familiar face.

 

“Squire Walker, squire Johnston, squire Cornforth, what are you doing? Disturbing a sleeping officer without a good reason is a punishable offence.” Snapped Danse, as he walked over, calmly but with a presence. The squires stood to attention with apologetic looks. “I'm sure Sentinel River will be fair in your punishment.”

 

Zion rolled his eyes and looked listlessly at the children; had he just sent them away himself he could've fallen back to sleep but Danse had now ensured he was too awake for that. “Ugh, go run up a flight of stairs 5 times I guess.” He waved them off, the kids taking off at a run. “Up as well! No counting running down flights of stairs!” Danse chuckled softly, standing to attention while Zion untangled himself from the sheets. “Can I help you, Paladin Danse?”

 

“Actually, you fell asleep in my bed, Sentinel River.” Danse pointed out. Zion looked around the room and gently bounced on the bed.

 

“You'd think they'd give you a nicer bed, at least.” Zion moaned,stretching gently and rolling his neck.

 

“Are you here to see Elder Maxson? He's not best pleased with you.” Danse warned.

 

“Well, thank fuck for that. It'd be awkward if he still adored me while I despise that gremlin.” Zion joked, standing by his power armour and considering whether to put it on. He decided he should; if everything went to shit at least he had protection.

 

“I'll escort you anyway. Danse offered. “It'll be good to catch up.” Danse led the way through the Prydwin, making small talk and ignoring the pointed whispers about Zion.

 

“How come you're in the Commonwealth, Danse?” Zion asked, somewhat sincerely but mostly hoping to keep Danse talking about himself and not asking questions.

 

“I was assigned a mission to perform recon and find out what happened to a missing patrol. It.. didn't go well.” Danse trailed off, clearly wanting to change the topic. “And yourself?”

 

“Spreading the truth, Danse. That I activated Purity, that I destroyed the Enclave. And that Atom will cleanse all our souls to usher in a new era of prosperity.” Zion dead panned. The less the Brotherhood knew, the better.

 

“Still intent on that?” Danse asked. They passed a crowd lining up for breakfast, some of the crowd nodded respectfully to Danse, but many more saluted Zion. Those that didn't salute gave him a look of scorn, as the person handing out food let them jump the queue and get served quickly. They ate it as they walked.

 

“Look, stories of the Courier reached here in 6 years from the other side of the country. How haven't stories of me gotten here yet, unless someone is trying to subdue them?” Zion asked, receiving an eye roll from Danse.

 

“With all due respect, Sentinel, you always seem to credit yourself with more than what Brotherhood records show.”

 

“Yeah, cause the records of xenophobic dickwads will always be accurate.” Zion mumbled darkly.

 

They reached the door to The Brig and the two parted ways, to an extent. Zion stood by the door collecting himself, while Danse watched him in case he ran. Eventually, Zion opened the door and walked inside.

 

It was uncomfortably bright. The view of the ground was too far away for comfort and the early morning sun shone straight into Zion's eyes through the glass. A shadow stood clear, turned away from Zion and stood in what could be considered a powerful pose.

 

“Alright, Maxson, we get it. You're the Elder.” Zion joked, walking towards the edge of the room to get the sun out of his eyes. “What did you want?” Maxson turned slightly, glancing at Zion with a look of disgust.

 

“Last time we talked we left on sour terms, River. Let's put that past us for now and talk about the present.” Maxson suggested, keeping his voice smooth, calm, and deep. 'Sour terms' was an understatement. Zion had called Maxson an 'overgrown shithead of a child' and Maxson had called Zion a 'proud, talentless has been' before Zion had stormed out.

 

“What's there to talk about? I'm done with the Brotherhood, thought even you could figure that out.” Zion replied, his voice steady but hiding his pent up rage. If he never saw the Brotherhood again, it'd be too soon.

 

“Megaton, what else?” Maxson snapped, glaring at Zion. “You and your little rebellion, breaking off an entire area of DC from Brotherhood protection.”

 

“Protection? That's what you call it?” Zion asked incredulously, rising in anger. “If you had your way DC would have no mutants, only corpses of the innocent.”

 

“And if you had your way, DC would be overrun by mutants!”Maxson fired back, moving his arms in fast, angry motions. “You dishonour the Brotherhood through your actions and friendships.”

 

“I honour my morals. Nothing more, nothing less.” Zion spat. “Now, if that's all, I'm going.” He turned to leave through the door.

 

“I'm not done. I want to know why you're in the Commonwealth, and why you've been spotted conspiring with one of the Brotherhood's greatest enemies.” Maxson demanded. “Zion turned his head to the side, thinking. Who was it this time? The Brotherhood was like the spoiled, entitled kid in class; everyone hated them, they hated everyone, and their only friends were the good actors that just really liked playing with their expensive toys. “Don't play dumb, the Courier has been spotted rebuilding a local faction, and you were found driving her bike.”

 

“Oh, Courier? Who even knows what goes through her mind. Animals and intense maths, probably. She's sightseeing. Me? I'm just spreading the truth that you like to hide. That it's not just the West Coast that has a hero with a Dogmeat”

 

“Zion, the truths of your adventures are... dangerous. If people knew...”

 

“If people knew it wasn't all the Brotherhood's doing but a bunch of wasteland scientists and a kid with a Rock-It Launcher, people wouldn't grovel to you, am I right? If people knew you could never deliver Project Purity to those outside of DC because it wasn't your doing, people would fight against you. People would teach themselves instead of joining the Brotherhood in hopes of learning, as my mother and father did with such clear success.”

 

“No! How dare you insinuate we are lying to people for power. If people knew they'd get themselves killed, Zion! They'd want to be like you and die in droves trying. The Vault Dweller, the Chosen One, the Courier, they're abnormal. They survive and change everything through sheer luck alone, but that's in the West Coast. That's a world away, and doesn't apply to the East Coast. If people knew what you've done, they'd try and replicate it, and die.” Maxson tried to reason flatly. Zion marched up to Maxson, standing nose to nose and glaring into his eyes.

 

“Do you think I'm abnormal, Arthur?” Zion whispered, putting years of spite into the words, standing there for a good moment before stepping back.

 

“You didn't answer my question. Why are you in the Commonwealth?” Maxson repeated, disregarding Zion's question.

 

“It's none of your business.” Zion snapped.

 

“But it is Butch's, isn't it? As he waits for you in Megaton, surrounded by Brotherhood territory, just waiting to strike...” Maxson threatened with a sickening smirk peaking the edge of his mouth. Zion's breath caught.

 

“You wouldn't. You'd be defeated.”

 

“Without their hero and rallying point, what do the settlements in your little haven have to lead them? I feel we'd succeed.”

 

Zion stared at Maxson aghast. How could he not hear himself? Threatening to kill hundreds, even thousands of lives to get his way. Zion relented.

 

“A friend has been taken to the Institute. I'm gonna rescue him. Courier's here because she's dealt with mad scientists before. Everyone else is doing it for the sake of my friend's kid. They're not involved.” He warned. Preston, Piper, Nick, Codsworth, Curie... they weren't involved in this spat against the Brotherhood. They deserved to be safe, no matter what.

 

“The Institute? Well, we have a common goal then. Have you figured out a way to get into the Institute? And don't lie to me.” Maxson threatened.

 

“We need to build a teleporter. If you're offering help, some materials, expertise or a place to build it wouldn't go amiss.” Zion hazarded with a cheeky edge.

 

“We'll consider it.” Maxson conceded.

 

“Why are you here? I answered your question at gunpoint, do me a favour and answer mine.”

 

“We've been discovering more and more synths in DC. We're putting a stop to this, one way or another, and we'll bring peace to the Commonwealth.” Maxson proudly announced, like it was something he'd practised and repeated a thousand times before.

 

“Is there no-one you won't villainise?” Zion asked under his breath, sadness and regret for the young boy he'd once known so long ago dripping off every word.

 

“I think we've kept you long enough. The vertibird in bay 2 will take you where you want to go.” Maxson instructed. “Ad Victorium.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How obvious is it that I dislike the Brotherhood? Lol, they were half decent in Fallout 3 but the really deserve roastin imho.
> 
> I’m nearly caught up! Just gotta do the next chapter, then 26 will be released next Wednesday and I’ll switching to a fortnightly schedule cos while typing up is getting caught up, I’m now actually behind on the writing aspect. Whoops.
> 
> Yay more children’s story references! Monster storm was always my favourite too.
> 
> If anyone has any questions please do drop me a message on my tumblr blog ofwyrmsandguns. I’m also willing to edit upcoming chapters to send to you separately if need be I.e. the chapter contains fighting against animals which you don’t like/is triggering. I don’t mind and I swear I’m not scary!
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked/disliked any aspect of the story so far, I’d love to hear from you!


	25. Relaying a Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is a go as the gang gets set to build the relay

Once back at the Publik, Piper and Nick explained what had happened before handing the courser's head over to Courier. She took it with morbid fascination and excitement, eager to start dissecting it despite the late hour. Charon meanwhile stood sulking outside, fearful for his friend's well-being, but at the same time confident that Zion could handle whatever was thrown at him. Performing an all-night watch didn't bother him; it was all he did in Azruhkal's employ, once more for friendship wouldn't hurt.

 

Discussions were made on what to tell Duncan if Zion wasn't back before he woke; everyone agreed on 'he's visiting old friends' was best as it could technically pass as the truth. It didn't need to though, Zion returned a little after 8 in the morning and got to greet Duncan as he woke up.

 

“Morning buddy!” Zion greeted Duncan with a hug. “Did you sleep well last night?”

 

“Yep!” Duncan replied in his usual loud and cheerful voice. “Courier told me a bed time story.”

 

Zion quickly turned to Courier and shot her a warning glance; she grinned back. “What was the story about?”

 

“A monster who was scared of thunderstorms. It was really nice!”

 

“Awesome.” Zion gave a sigh of relief as Courier gave him a look of mock offence that he'd doubted her babysitting skills. Zion whispered to Piper as he sat down beside her “Usually her stories involve dragons eating children.”

 

“What's the plan now?” Preston asked, eyeing the small box Courier was holding. Once upon a time it had held jewellery to be gifted to some lucky sod, but whatever it held now would surely entice screams, not heartfelt feelings. Courier handed it to Zion carefully.

 

“You need to gan see your mates at the Railroad again. Get them to check this out and get a copy of the data for me.” Courier instructed.

 

“Right, Charon and I will go together again. They're paranoid, turning up with fewer, more or different people will cause too many problems.” Zion agreed, but Duncan grabbed his arm.

 

“No! I want you to stay, Grandad.” He whined, Zion gave him an apologetic look an a tight squeeze.

 

“I know kiddo. But we're trying to find your dad, remember? Once we find him, I promise things'll go back to normal.” Zion promised. Duncan looked less than thrilled, but there was little point arguing. “Reckon you can find some junk to salvage to build the relay?” Zion asked Courier.

 

“Of course, I'm mint at that. But we're gonna need to find someone who can build, programme and work the damn thing. I'm just good at the hacking and theory stuff.” Courier pointed out.

 

“Actually, the Brotherhood might be able to help. They've got beef with the Institute, they might help us if we help them.”

 

“Oh. Great. Guess I'm not getting within 20 miles of the relay then.” Courier dead panned.

 

“On the contrary, the chance of you dying in a horrific relay accident might convince them to let you be the guinea pig.” Zion joked. Courier shot him a look caught between exasperation and agreement.

 

“Let me guess, we're on babysitting duty again?” Piper asked, a little annoyed at the lack of action but understanding the importance none-the-less. Carting a 4 year old round the Commonwealth was too dangerous, but they were sitting ducks here.

 

“You could check round the local vendors for some materials we need.” Courier suggested, quickly writing up a list of materials and placing it on the table, along with a sizeable cache of caps.

 

“If X6 turns up again, we need someone clever and skilled to protect Duncan as well, Piper.” Zion reasoned.

 

“I know, it just feels like you're leaving us out for a reason.” Piper pouted, and Nick agreed.

 

“The reason is that nothing means more to me than Duncan. I know he's in safe hands with you, I don't just trust him with anyone.” Zion explained, his charm oozing on every word. Piper blushed a little at the compliment.

 

“Oh, go on then. But you're taking us next time.” She demanded, not looking at Zion. Zion smiled his thanks.

 

Courier, as always, was already halfway out the door, trying to sneak away without fuss while Preston followed behind a lot less covertly. Zion hugged Duncan goodbye before leaving with Charon. As he closed the door behind him, he heard Duncan burst into tears as Piper and Nick comforted him. The guilt weighed heavily in his stomach and he tried to reason it away. _It's for RJ_ , he thought.

 

As they passed through the main gates, Zion looked around them for anyone who shouldn't hear what he wanted to say, and walked closer to Charon, speaking under his breath. “I was thinking about what you said while I was talking to Maxson. You're right. This has gone on long enough.”

 

Charon nodded in agreement. “I'll follow you into any battle, Zion.” He assured him.

 

Zion gave a sigh of relief. Overthrowing an Elder would be hard enough with the support of his closest friends, he couldn't do it without Charon's support.

 

////////////////////

 

Courier hadn't taken the quad this time and was instead setting a brisk pace through Boston, Preston followed alongside a little uncomfortably; this was faster than a normal walking pace, but Courier seemed to be in a hurry.

 

Not far from Diamond City they came across a small crowd: six or so people of varying ages, genders and backgrounds that seemed to be waiting for them. As they approached, a young woman stepped forward and addressed Preston.

 

“Are you the general of the Minutemen?” she asked.

 

“Yeah, can I help you?” Preston asked, a little uneasy.

 

“We've heard about what you've been doing out here. We wanna help. We wanna join the Minutemen.” The woman announced, sure of the statement but nervous for the answer.

 

“Whoa, are you serious? All of you?” Preston asked in amazement to be answered by a sea of nodding heads and excited cheers. “Well, alright them.”

 

“Don't you have something to swear them in with?” Courier asked in a hushed whisper.

 

“You mean like a pledge? Why?” Preston replied quietly.

 

“People like a song and dance. Makes it feel important. I can wing one for you though.” Courier offered, stepping away from Preston and talking louder. “Of course, General. It'd be my honour.” She turned to the crowd, who looked expectantly at her. “Alright recruits, hands on your chests and repeat after me.” Courier demanded, standing to firm attention like she was straight out of an Enclave propaganda video. The pledge only lasted a couple of minutes but covered everyone promising to help those in need, to never take for personal gain, to protect the people at a minute's notice and to work for the good of the people of the Commonwealth. Once everyone was satisfied Courier stepped back and let Preston take the lead once more. 6 or so pairs of expectant eyes stared at him.

 

“Right, what we need most right now is supplies to help rebuild and improve settlements. My friend and I are headed to find some salvageable junk that can be repurposed. Split into groups of about three and gather as much materials as you can and take them to the nearest Minuteman settlement. We'll set up supply lines from there.” Preston commanded, the new recruits eagerly split up and head off to find some overlooked junk. Courier smiled at Preston warmly and punched his arm in a friendly manner.

 

“Well done, general. The minutemen will be stronger than ever at this rate.”

 

“That's the plan, anyway.” Preston agreed, punching her back. “Where are we headed anyway?”

 

“Hardware store. Should have everything we need for a transporter. Bolts, screws, pair of pliers for every room in my house... The usual.” Courier said. “Unless you have any objections?”

 

“No, it's a good plan.” Preston agreed. They walked a bit before Preston spoke again. “That was a good pledge, actually, you need to write it down.”

 

“I just nicked it from the Desert Rangers out West. Don't give me credit.” Courier gently warned, picking up the pace to make up for lost time.

 

/////////////////

 

“Des? Can you turn on the light? It's Zion and Charon, we don't really wanna be blinded, thanks.” Zion shouted through the opening to Railroad HQ. He was pushing his luck but by God did that light hurt. After a little bit of muttering, the light switched on and filled the small passage with painful light. “Thank you!”

 

They gave it a quick minute for their eyes to adjust before entering the passageway. As before, Des stood in between two gunners while she herself looked unarmed. Feeling more confident and better rested, than last time, Zion made a light joke. “So do you all just stand like that in the dark all day or what?”

 

“I doubt you came all the way here to question us on our tactics, Zion. What do you want?” Des asked impatiently.

 

“Your lead was a bust. The scientist was long dead and all his stuff was destroyed. If it weren't for my fantastic friend we'd be stuck.” Zion explained.

 

“Let me guess, The Courier? You've been seen together.” Des stated.

 

“Oh so you know who she is then? Fine, whatever. Anyway, because of her we know what we need. And one thing we need is this courser chip analysing for a code.” Zion held the box out and watched as Des' eye's widened.

 

“You have what? Killing a courser, that'd give even Glory a run for her money.” Des sounded both amazed and impressed, while the woman stood next to her (presumably Glory) seemed a little insulted at the thought of this newcomer being better than her. “I owe you and apology. Anyone who kills a courser is good in my book. But what you're asking for puts us in a tricky position.”

 

“Tricky? You want me to spy on the Institute and you're the one with problems? Oh, hi Deacon.” Zion greeted Deacon as he saw the man from before once again joining the discussion.

 

“Nice to see you too, Zion.” Deacon acknowledged before turning to Des imploringly. “Des, we need to let him in. He's got an intact courser chip, for god's sake.”

 

“That violates our security protocols.” Des warned.

 

“To hell with that. He killed a courser, there's no way he's working with the Institute.”

 

“But he's been spotted with the Brotherhood by none other than yourself. Their ideals and plans directly oppose our own.” Des reminded him harshly. Deacon turned back to Zion with a sheepish look.

 

“Don't suppose you'd let us borrow the chip...?” He asked, not sounding at all convinced in his own request. Zion sighed loudly, gently replacing the box into his pocket.

 

“No, not after all the trouble it took to get it. Listen, I wasn't off conspiring with the Brotherhood by choice, throwing darts at what group to class as abominations next. You” Zion said pointedly at Deacon “should know that I've all but officially left the Brotherhood, and I took part of the Capital Wasteland with me. Why the hell would I be working with the Brotherhood against you? Against everything I stand for? Against every **one** I stand for?”

 

“He has a good point, Des, working with the Brotherhood is counter to his own goals if nothing else.” Deacon hazarded. This time it was Des's turn to sigh, and she stayed silent for an extended moment before finally agreeing.

 

“Fine. We're letting you into our headquarters. You're the first outsider to ever be given this privilege. We'll discuss the details of your chip inside.” With that, Des turned and walked deeper into the hideout, with Zion and Charon awkwardly following some distance behind. They received a stern 'don't try anything, stranger' as they passed. The following hallways were lit alternately by green and yellow lighting, a sense of mystery hanging in the air, as to be expected when you're about to enter a spy hideout. The hallway ended rather anticlimactically with a wooden door.

 

Beyond the door lay more stairs heading downwards, which quickly opened into what appeared to be a repurposed crypt. Low ceilings brushed Charon's head, arches painted white with cracked paint made the area feel more sectioned off than it should be. But it was well lit and more inviting than any crypt they'd been in before. Whether it was the fading colour on the walls, the claustrophobia of the low ceiling, or the bright lights that contrasted the secretive nature, the area reminded Zion somewhat of the vault. He'd yet to decide if that was a good thing.

 

Des didn't wait for time nor man and was halfway across the HQ by the time Zion and Charon had finished taking it all in. “Decoding a courser chip is a very delicate operation. A million things can go wrong, not least of which is losing the data. Fortunately, we have the right man for the job.” Des finished, stopping beside an eccentrically dressed black man who was tapping away at a computer. He looked up as she approached.

 

“Hey Dez, you need something?” The man asked in a cheerful tone with a distinct but pleasant accent.

 

“Tom, our visitor here has a courser chip.” Dez said, her voice faster than before.

 

“Whoa? For real? Oh man, it's been ages.” Tom exclaimed, excitement springing from his voice and body alike.

 

“Right. Some ground rules. Tom can get you the code, but once we're done we get the courser chip.” Des outlined. Zion's brow furrowed.

 

“Your lead was a dead-end, y'know. I hope you're not expecting this on top of spying on the Institute.” He warned. This was starting to feel a little out of hand; the Railroad seemed to ask for much for so little return.

 

“We had a deal. You wanted the lead, you got it. You want the courser code, you'll get it. But neither comes without payment.” Des's tone was final; there was no bargaining to be had with her. Zion threw his arms up in annoyed submission, he didn't like being stiffed in a deal but Des was right. They did have a deal. And, with how everything was lining up, it seemed Courier would be the one to enter the Institute anyway. “Alright Tom, make it happen.”

 

Zion handed the box over to Tom gently, and Tom rushed over to the computer eagerly. “All right little courser chip. Let's have the circuit analyser take a crack at you.” Tom hooked the chip up to the computer and started tapping away. They watched in silence with only the sound of distant whispering echoing through the crypt. When Zion turned to look at the source, the whispering stopped. Consciously he knew it was probably some operatives discussing confidential matters, but on instinct he stepped closer to Charon and gave the the ghoul an obvious, friendly smile. He's with me, the action seemed to say, try anything and I'll end you.

 

“We're in! Chip accessed, just poke the analogue connectors a little.” Tom gave a light cheer, which quickly turned to panic. “What? Oh man. Don't crash. Hold it together.” Zion held his breath. “Here it comes. Encryption algorithms. All right. We're still running. Oh man, they've added more decimals to the last cipher. This is gonna be... C'mon baby, show me that pattern. Where is it? Wait... They're using the same logarithmic functions as the key generator. Oh man we got lucky. I got you, you Institute bastard. I got you. Solve for N. Come on, show me that sweet base number. And we got it! We got the code! Hahahahahaha! Let me load that onto a holotape for ya.” Tom cheered himself, looking a little smug.

 

“Good work Tom.” Des congratulated him in the least celebratory voice ever.

 

“Not sure our luck will hold up next time, Dez.” Tom warned, but for the time being he seemed happy enough that their luck had held up for this.

 

“Start working on the rest of that chip. And you,” Des turned to Zion, looking a little less hostile than in the tunnels. “We need to discuss this deal we made before.” The tone made it clear she meant telling him what to spy on. Tom handed Zion the holotape and Zion gently examined it in his hands, as if it was some holy relic meant to save his soul. This held the code to get him to RJ, to rescue his old friend and reunite him with his son. A goal that had once been so intangibly out of reach was now clear, and Zion didn't know whether to laugh or cry about it.

 

///////////////////

 

Piper stood at the general good store, quietly and anxiously waiting as Myrna read over the list repeatedly, shooting dirty looks at Piper repeatedly. Duncan was stood chatting with Nina and Nat not far away, having enjoyed a day at the school with both girls. Nick had gone back to the office to avoid a confrontation with the haughty shop owner.

 

“What are you planning on using all this for anyway, Piper? It's all very suspicious if you ask me.” Myrna asked, eyes squinted at Piper, as if concentrating enough on her face meant Piper would spill her secrets.

 

“Oh you got me Myrna. I'm using all this to fund the Institute replacing people with synths.” Piper dead panned. “It's for the Minutemen, if you must know. A friend asked me to do some shopping for them.”

 

“This won't come cheap. I hope you actually have some caps for this.” Myrna scoffed.

 

“Oh, whoops. Forgot you needed currency to buy things, silly me.” Piper said, handing over the cache of caps from Courier. Myrna tutted and went to grab the materials together, when Piper spotted something in the corner of the shop that caught her eye. Surely Courier wouldn't mind Piper spending some of her money on it...? “Hey, can I get some of those toys too? For a friend, of course.”

 

///////////////////

 

Hardware Town was awash with bullets and drowning in angry raider shouting. Courier and Preston crouched behind some cardboard boxes sharing a look of quiet resignation at the fact that the raiders were doing their job for them.

 

It all started, as all good stories in the wastelands do, with a bet. Courier reckoned that she could clear the entire store interior of raiders on one reload of her gun, while Preston, knowing her methods, challenged her to do so with only one bullet and no other weapons. Instead of going in guns blazing, they snuck in through the front doors where Courier threw her entire cap satchel on the floor, spilling out what was easily 1000 caps. It took all of 10 seconds for every raider in the building to flock to the noise, around 7 raider in total. A couple seemed suspicious and wanted to check for intruders, but the large pile of caps fixed them onto their greedy knees.

 

Eventually one raider noticed another had grabbed more caps and started an argument. The second believed it was their right to have as many as they 'damn-well pleased' so the first walloped them in the nose. The caps they were both holding scattered across the ground and the other raiders pounced on them like vultures. The first yelled at them to stop as he still pinned the second to the floor, but the others didn't listen, so he drew his gun and shot one dead.

 

This caused a riot as each raider grabbed their own gun, turning on each other over bottle caps. Their aim was shoddy and walls were hit more often than people, only occasionally were grunts of pain and death throes heard. Sometimes bullets tore through carotid arteries with a gurgling sound, sometimes they struck chests, or legs and arms so many times the raider bled out across the floor, screaming until the last. Eventually, only the second raider, who'd stayed against the floor, was left, nose bleeding and dripping over their hands but otherwise unscathed. They went back to picking up the caps, this time humming to themselves. They didn't see the flash of the holorifle until it was too late; their ash covered the caps without so much as a blink.

 

Courier triumphantly leapt into the centre of the room, throwing her arms into the air and shouting “Ta da!” like she'd just completed a magic trick, before taking an exaggerated bow and kneeling to sweep up her caps. Preston shook his head in playful disbelief.

 

“You need to teach me your tricks one day, y'know.” He laughed, but with genuine feeling.

 

“Eh, it's a mix of knowing yer enemy, confidence and plain winging it, General. I'm surprised you haven't tried this before.”

 

Just then, Courier's PipBoy started beeping loudly and incessantly. She glanced at it and hit a few buttons to answer.

 

“Courier? It's Zion. I've got the code.” Came Zion's voice over the line. The quality was shockingly bad, but passable enough.

 

“Mint. We've got people getting supplies. Where do you need 'em?” Courier asked, grabbing the last of her caps.

 

“Do you reckon you could get them to the Boston Airport for me? We'll meet there.” Zion asked.

 

“Isn't that Brotherhood territory? You wanna get shot, like?”

 

“They're gonna help us, remember? I'll get there first, tell them to expect you. Don't worry, I won't let them shoot you. Fatally, at least.” Zion added.

 

“Aye, ta very much. Dick.” Courier pressed a button and the line cut off. She sighed, eyeing her surroundings. “Guess we better grab some a this shit then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we all know what’s gonna happen next chapter, don’t we?
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment, I’d like to know if people are still reading and enjoying this.


	26. Tchaikovsky Sucks And So Does The Brotherhood

Convincing the Brotherhood to even let Courier near the airport was damn near impossible, getting them to let her near the relay wouldn't have happened at all had Zion not offered her as a guinea pig. Courier didn't mind, as it were she sat in a corner reading a book and tinkering with an old flash light while everyone else fussed.

 

Proctor Ingram lead the building of the relay, shouting instructions at ten different overworked scribes. Any one bolt misplaced was met with a sharp, harsh tongue and occasionally tears. The brotherhood weren't interested in keeping Courier alive, they just wanted to make sure the relay worked. Purposefully building it to kill her, while an interesting concept, would only mean they would have to rebuild it properly later, and risk losing their own men.

 

Zion had stopped on the way to pick up Duncan and invite Piper, Nick, Codsworth and Curie along. Nick and Charon got some funny looks from some of the soldiers, but it was nothing Nick's sharp tongue and Charon's hard glare couldn't fix. Zion had spotted Danse watching the affairs, looking like he wanted to go speak to Zion but was torn over being near to Charon and his more-than-occaisonal death glares. Eventually Zion decided to take the restless Duncan on a tour to meet everyone as an excuse to chat to people he hadn't seen in years. Some seemed to resent him, some quietly told him of their support, most seemed indifferent: loyal to the Brotherhood, but understanding of Zion's actions. At least Duncan had a fun time running around and annoying the paladins with little consequence; regardless of their personal opinions a truth stood tall: never mess with the Lone Wanderer or friends and never question a Sentinel's grandson. When a four year old child was both, you let him get on with it.

 

At one point Zion spotted an off-duty scribe in sunglasses casually watching the event. He walked over with a knowing smile. “Hello scribe. Can't say I've seen you before.” He joked. The scribe took mock offence.

 

“Oh come now, boss. We go way back. All the way back to Rivet City even.” Deacon whined.

 

“Nope, can't say I recognise you. Oh well. I'll leave you to your delusions of grandeur then.” Zion joked before walking away, leaving Deacon to stand staring at him, open mouthed in mock disbelief.

 

Soon enough all the major components were set up and wires were strung connecting different consoles to each other. Zion snuck over to where Courier sat, the book now forgotten as she stared at the relay.

 

“Scared?” Zion asked, his voice gently and understanding. They didn't know if it would work; she could end up encased in concrete or just teleport straight into an ambush. Courier swallowed and whispered back.

 

“Last time I teleported into a secretive high tech lab without permission it... didn't really go well.” She admitted, absently rubbing at a scar on her temple. Zion had never asked (there seemed to be an unspoken rule between them to never ask about each other's scars or wounds unless the owner had brought it up or was currently dying from it), but he reckoned from its placement it would have been from where she was shot in the head. All those years ago. He caught himself scratching his own scars from his time at Point Lookout.

 

“I'm sure you'll be alright, you're the motherfucking Courier. Hasn't been a single person who could take you down yet, doubt these eggheads will manage it. Hell, hasn't been an army that could manage it yet, and you've fought multiple of those.” Zion held out his hand and Courier took it, giving each other a reassuring squeeze as the lights on the relay sparked up, bright, blue and terrifying. Lightning-like electricity sparked out across the metal from the highest point, accompanied by loud, metallic clashing and zapping. Proctor Ingram looked upon her work with pride. Elder Maxson stepped out to address her.

 

“Remarkable work, proctor. The signal interceptor appears to be complete.” Maxson glanced over to Zion and Courier, indicating for them to join him. “Are we ready to put it to the test?”

 

“Aye. One guinea pig at the ready.” Courier joked, stepping up onto the platform and take a deep, concerned breath. “Y'know, I read somewhere that the best way to deal with stress is to turn it into excitement. I'm so fucking pumped to die!”

 

Maxson scowled at her. “This is the first time we've attempted to directly adapt Institute technology. When we throw that switch, we don't know exactly what's gonna happen.”

 

“That's why you're sacrificing me to the God's of technology, right? Wait, that is what we're doing here, isn't it?” Courier joked. Maxson decided to ignore her.

 

“God willing, our volunteer will end up inside the Institute and the mission can continue.”

 

“I never said owt about carrying out your orders, Maxson.” Courier warned.

 

“The next phase of the mission is getting Sentinel River in, as per his plan. You're a suitable potential sacrifice, the Sentinel is not.” Maxson barked, Courier simply shrugging. Zion suddenly felt uncomfortable; why was Maxson suddenly being so accommodating now when barely a day ago they were screaming at each other on the Prydwen? “I will discuss the next phase with River after you've gone, Courier. You do not need to know the details.”

 

“I've checked and rechecked everything. I think the signal receptor is ready to go. Are you?” Ingram asked Courier.

 

“As I'll ever be.” Courier responded, staring at the crackling electricity overhead with dread. Occasionally blue sparks rained down around her. She closed her eyes tight, she didn't want to see all those sparks.

 

“Let's see. Relay's dialled in. Beam emitters warmed up. Everything looks green. Let's start scanning for the signal. Cross your fingers, I'm inputting the code now.” Ingram instructed. “Wow, there's a heck of a lot of interference and ghosting, it's gonna take a minute or two to lock in.” Everyone stood around in awkward silence for a minute. Suddenly the console started beeping and Ingram raced back to it. “Well well, looks like we have a winner! RF wave capture complete, ramping the emitter. Sixty percent, eighty percent, emitter spiking but steady. All that's left is to throw the transmitter switch. Transmitting in three... two... one...”

 

Zion stared at the Courier, holding his breath in fear, worried for his friend and knowing full well that he was next. He was too preoccupied to realise Duncan had slipped away.

 

This machine was going to take Courier to the Institute, where his dad was. Waiting with grandad seemed a long winded way to see dad again.

 

Classical music started blaring through the relay, and Courier scrunched up her face in disgust, covering her ears. Duncan took his chance, flinging himself towards the unaware Courier. Zion realised a second too late.

 

“Duncan!” He shrieked, racing to grab him as a bright blue flash enveloped the area. A heavy crashing of steel and a loud electric discharge deafened them all. When the area was clear again, the relay was in tatters, twisted metal jutting everywhere, severed wires snaking across the floor and spitting helplessly but most notably, Courier and Duncan were nowhere to be seen.

 

Zion dug through the wreckage in vain, screaming Duncan's name as if he could hear, tears streaking unashamedly down his face. _Please, for the love of God, just be alive,_ he pleaded silently.

 

/////////////////////////

 

Courier stumbled slightly as her feet passed onto new ground, but kept upright as she hazardly opened her eyes and uncovered her ears. Duncan was less fortunate and fell backwards onto his backside. The crash caused Courier to quickly turn to face him, shock and anger mingling on her face. She grabbed Duncan's arm and pulled him to his feet.

 

“What the hell are you playing at?” She hissed. “You were supposed to stay with Zion!”

 

“I wanna see Dad.” Duncan mumbled, all prior courage gone in the face of the livid Courier. She didn't have Zion's natural way with children and it showed.

 

“This isn't safe. If I knew how to get you back I'd march you right there but for now we're stuck.” Courier groaned to herself, grabbing her hair and thinking. Finally, with a sigh, she knelt before Duncan with a stern look on her face. “This is a dangerous place, Duncan, and we're stranded here, you understand?” Duncan nodded his head. “We need to find a way out but for now we'll press on. You have to hold me hand, Duncan, and do exactly as I say. Run off or disobey at any point and you'll be in more trouble than you could ever imagine. Understand?” Duncan nodded again.

 

Courier stood up and grabbed Duncan's right hand and drew her old police pistol. With a deep breath she headed onwards, glancing at the computers by the relay declaring an admin lock. Instead they walked through empty corridors towards the lift at the end.

 

It was too empty, surely there should be someone manning the relay in case the postie had a delivery to make. There wasn't even distant whispers or clatters or breathing. Duncan glanced to Courier seeking reassurance but either she was too deep in thought to pay attention or hadn't noticed.

 

The lift didn't wait for a floor number to be pressed, the doors closed swiftly and they experienced the sudden surge as the lift accelerated upwards. The quiet was uncomfortable so Courier filled it with what she knew best: pointless physics facts. “Feels like you weight more, doesn't it? Y'see, the weight of yourself that you feel is just the ground pushing on you, and if you want to go up faster, the ground needs to push more.” She tried explaining to Duncan, who stared blankly at her. “Like, if I push you now” she pushed him gently “you don't move quick, but if I push you with more force” she did so “you move quicker.” Duncan and Courier stood staring at each other in silence. “Well, I think science is cool anyway.” She said huffily, then added under her breath. “Bloody bairns don't appreciate cool facts. I'll use biology next time, more exciting.”

 

The lift stopped and a familiar face greeted them. Duncan ducked behind Courier by instinct, but Courier greeted the Courser in her usual manner.

 

“Come to kill the intruders, X6-88? Try it. I'll take down every bastard in the facility single-handedly.” She threatened in a pleasant tone. X6 was unfazed.

 

“No, you're expected further in. I was sent to guide you onwards.” He informed her, his tone hinting at his displeasure in the task.

 

“Guide me? It looks linear, much like this adventure so far. Geez, why can't we just, like, punch some deathclaws and skip some steps?” Courier asked jokingly, although neither X6 nor Duncan seemed to get it. She tutted. “Eh, the Chosen One woulda liked that.”

 

X6 rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses and led the way, Courier following behind with Duncan still hiding behind her. X6 stopped at the final corner and indicated for the two of them to carry on into the room.

 

It was bright, white and painful. The lights reflected off every surface and were dazzling. Courier shielded her eyes, now with a greater understanding of why X6 always wore glasses. This was agony.

  
The room had 2 men in it. The first seemed in charge, older and in black scrubs. He held himself important, nose in the air and a look of disdain at Courier's mucky ware. _At least I look comfortable, dick_ , she thought. _You look like someone nailed a ruler to your back._

 

The second was younger, although his weathered skin and tired face looked like that of a man many years older. He was considerably cleaner than normal, and quieter too, but it was unmistakable who it was. His eyes widened at the sight of Courier, his lips forming her name in confusion. His eyes widened further as he saw Duncan.

 

“Dad!” Duncan shouted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well well, here we are then. In the Institute. Fun fact: when planning out the story there was only gonna be this and the next chapter set in the institute. While writing it out however... it’s gonna be a bit longer in the Institute.
> 
> I’m switching to a fortnightly schedule now so I can get caught up on writing since the chapters are getting pretty long now. Especially the next few.
> 
> Also I am so not a fan of classical music. Or the Brotherhood. So there you go.
> 
> Comments are still appreciated! Are people enjoying this or not? Let me know please!


	27. ...

Duncan tried to run to his dad, but Courier held his hand tight and pulled him back despite his protests. This had 'trap' written all over it and she wanted out.

 

“What the fuck is going in?” Courier demanded, glaring at the smug look on the stranger.

 

“Hey! Watch your language, there's kids around.” MacCready scolded on instinct, momentarily forgetting who he was talking to and realising only after Courier shot him a mucky look. She placed her hands over Duncan's ears, now no longer struggling at the memory of Courier's damning words.

 

“Answer my fucking questions before I snap and gut you all.” She hissed, releasing Duncan's ears and taking his hand again.

 

“X6-88 was instructed to brief you. Has he failed another mission?” The stranger asked, frowning at X6, who seemed unbothered but Duncan could hear his breath catch.

 

“He said you wanted me to break in. I'm in. Now what?” She asked. She wasn't here for politics.

 

“You've shown vast potential for an outsider. We're interested in working with you.” The stranger said bluntly. His tone made it clear he'd been planning to announce it with a bit more gusto and felt scorn at the Courier for being ready to shoot him if he tried.

 

“Oh aye? How's that gonna work, I live in Vegas.” Courier asked.

 

“Yes, we know. We also know of your many triumphs and advances. We're interested in striking a deal, in exchange for some help first in the Commonwealth.”

 

“I don't care. I'm not here for you. I'm here to rescue RJ, nowt more.” Courier waved him off, turning to MacCready who wasn't meeting her gaze.

 

“I don't need rescuing, Courier. I'm working for the Institute.” MacCready told her, but there was something in his tone that made sure Courier wasn't buying it. Regret, maybe? Pain, probably.

 

“Hope you got a decent pay then, man. This place doesn't seem friendly.” Courier warned, glancing at X6 and his casual, but purposeful, unease-injecting presence.

 

“Yeah, the pay was worth it.” RJ reassured her, although his eyes stayed on Duncan. Duncan wanted nothing more than a hug, but he could feel the unease in the room, especially that coming from his dad. He held his hand out to his dad in demand of a hug. RJ cautiously walked closer, knowing Courier was jumpy at the best of times and in a room where she was outnumbered 3 to 1, in a strange location, protecting a child, she'd be jumpier than a rabbit on a trampoline. Courier watched him carefully, one hand holding Duncan's hand, the other on her gun, but she otherwise stayed still. RJ knelt by Duncan with a smile. “Hey buddy, looks like you've had an adventure.”

 

Duncan's face lit up. “Yeah! I've made lots of friends! Preston, Piper, Nick, Codsworth, Curie, Courier, but especially Dogmeat! He's my best friend.”

 

“Dogmeat?” MacCready asked, looking up at Courier for confirmation on his suspicions.

 

“Yeah. He's a dog.” Courier said plainly.

 

“Grandad says I have to ask you if we can keep him, or he'll stay at Grandad's house instead.” Duncan looked at his dad with pleading eyes. “Can we? Please?”

 

“I'll have to think about it.” MacCready said with a shrug. Courier caught his eye and the look they shared said everything. The Institute's jobs were a permanent thing, MacCready's opinion might not matter. Courier let go of Duncan's hand with a flourish that let the two know she was allowing a hug, although she didn't take her eyes off them.

 

“We can discuss the arrangement upstairs, if you'll follow me...” The stranger started moving to lead Courier, but she stamped her foot.

 

“No. We're not discussing owt 'til I get Duncan back to his grandad. There's no negotiation on that. And I'm not moving an inch without Duncan.” Courier demanded. MacCready didn't object to this plan, in fact he seemed almost thankful. The stranger huffed loudly.

 

“We were going to fit your PipBoy with a courser chip so you had easy access to and from the Institute, but that's upstairs.” He emphasised. Courier shrugged with a smirk.

 

“Well, bring it down here then.” She suggested. The man scrunched up his face disapprovingly, but relented, and walked out. He returned 10 minutes later with a woman in blue scrubs and a slightly miffed expression.

 

“This is Dr Li, if you'll let her examine your PipBoy...” The stranger introduced her. Courier held out her arm as far as possible tensing as the woman held her arm to steady it. She worked quickly and seemed pleased once she was done, leaving without so much as a goodbye. Courier thanked her anyway as she left.

 

“Right, I'll leave then, but I'll be back ASAP.” Courier reassured the stranger. If they wanted her assistance, she wasn't in immediate danger. Not to mention she could milk the situation for help for the Minutemen. “I'm going to bring a friend back with me though, just for reassurance.”

 

“That's fair.” The stranger relented, his tone and face saying he found it anything but fair. He seemed somewhat torn between hating that Courier was seemingly taking in charge and hopeful that this friend might be more reasonable. “Before you go though, we have a... gift, I suppose. To show our dedication to working with you and keeping you alive.

 

“Oh man, I hope it's a toaster.” Courier joked.

 

“No. X6-88 has been assigned as your body guard. He'll go with you.”

 

Courier turned to look at X6, he seemed thoroughly unimpressed but noticing that kind of thing wasn't really her expertise. “You know people aren't gifts, right?” Courier asked coldly. Clearly he was meant as a spy, but everything in the wording of this stranger set off a thousand red flags. “Do you want to work as my bodyguard, X6-88?” She asked.

 

“He is a courser, not a human.” The stranger interrupted. “Protecting you is his mission, and he should try his hardest to actually complete this one.”

 

“Oh god, it's a Charon situation all over again.”Courier moaned, burying her face in one hand. At least he was a good fighter, and with any hope he would lend a hand to the Minutemen as well. It seemed quite a reward for just playing nice with the nerds. “Fine, fine. You can tag along if you want. Now,” Courier gently took Duncan's hand, as Duncan and MacCready slowly let go of each other, neither happy but knowing better than to argue. Courier waved X6 over. “Keep your gun away, it's off to the Brotherhood base. Unless they fire at us first, of course.” Courier shrugged and started pattering away at the PipBoy screen, awkwardly twisting herself to work it as she held Duncan's hand. “That's always a possibility. Are we ready? Say goodbye to your dad for now, Duncan.”

 

Duncan said goodbye, but it was choked by tears so he mostly just waved. MacCready waved back, his own eyes threatening to spill over. Courier stared at him for an extended moment, wishing she could convey what her lips couldn't say.

 

_Agreement or not, we're getting you out of here, MacCready. That's a promise._

 

Courier hit a button on the PipBoy and once more they were enveloped in bright, blue light, as the world seemed to shift beneath their feet.

 

////////////////////////

 

The site where the relay had been was filled with awkward tension. No-one knew what they were meant to be doing. The scribes felt sure they were meant to rebuild the relay, but it was a difficult task when the Elder and the Sentinel were having one of their infamous shouting matches right in the centre of the rubble. Zion seemed to blame Maxson for Duncan running into the relay, Maxson seemed more concerned with getting Zion to continue the mission. Neither was willing to back down and listen to the other for a second so everyone in the area just watched quietly, wishing they would just shut up.

 

They were so distracted with screaming at each other that they missed the flash of light and zapping sound from the entrance to the airport, followed by a very loud, very shocked “What the fuck?!” from a stationed paladin.

 

“I'll explain later.” Came the rushed response as the owner ran past the bewildered guards, carrying a crying child and followed by a courser. As they entered the clearing where Zion and Maxson were having their domestic, Courier put Duncan down, threw her arms in the air in triumph to announce “Fear not! For I have returned!”

 

Everyone turned to stare at her in bewildered silence, only being jolted to life when Duncan crashed into Zion's legs. Zion hugged him tightly, beyond relieved but still a little confused. Courier slowly lowered her arms, before turning it into a nervous shrug with a hazarded “Ta da?”

 

Preston raced over first to hug her, although Courier seemed less than pleased with the sudden hug. “Man, why is everyone acting so weird?” Courier asked.

 

“You just made history. Visiting the Institute is a one way trip for most people.” Preston explained, looking at her with relieved amazement.

 

“I'd assumed this Institute excursion of yours was gonna be one way. Sure proved me wrong.” Nick agreed.

 

“I'm a little shocked the Institute let you leave.” Piper added, her voice full of conspiracy. “Unless you're some sort of synth replacement... which is just crazy.”

 

“They want me to work as some sort of PR person or something, I think.” Courier explained. “To create some sort of deal with Vegas. Don't think they understand how Vegas works, but y'know...”

 

“Well, thank heavens you and Duncan returned safe and sound. You have no idea how distressing it is to see someone vanish into thin air.” Codsworth bemoaned.

 

It was then that everyone seemed to notice Courier's newest travel companion and started reaching for their guns. Courier quickly tried to stop them. “Stop, it's fine, he's canny. The Institute has him assigned as my bodyguard, I'll keep my eye on him.” She assured them.

 

“Body guard? To you?” Preston asked, his tone unbelieving but with a definite chuckle. “Man, you're gonna have the easiest and most stressful job in the wasteland.”

 

“What? You don't like travelling with me or summat, like?” Courier asked in mock offence.

 

“One day you're running at raiders with a bladeless axe, another you're wiping out entire strongholds with a single bullet. It's fun, but I think I'll have grey hairs before we're done.” Preston admitted.

 

“Who are you, Raul?” Courier asked, strolling over to Zion. “They want me to go back and discuss a deal with them, do you wanna tag along?” Zion pondered for a moment, but Maxson interrupted the silence.

 

“Your mission still needs completing, Sentinel. But we can't discuss it here in front of outsiders.” Maxson urged, a hint of venom spitting towards Courier on the last word. Zion rolled his eyes and addressed Duncan instead.

 

“You know I hate to do this kiddo, but I need to leave a while. Stay with Preston and the gang, alright? And give Dogmeat all the cuddles. They can stay here, right?” Zion asked Maxson the last question, his voice however saying 'They're staying here.' Maxson agreed and Courier lead Duncan back to Preston, with a scribe leading everyone else away, leaving Courier and X6 stood quietly at the edge of the yard. Maxson, Zion and Ingram sucked inside a nearby hangar, out of the line of sight on the odd couple.

 

“I'm gonna keep this short and sweet.” Maxson informed Zion in a hushed whisper, as if distance and a thick metal door alone couldn't keep Courier and X6 out of the loop. “We have reason to believe that when Dr Li exiled herself 10 years ago, she headed to the Commonwealth to join the Institute. We need her expertise once again in a vital project. Your mission is to locate Dr Li and convince her to join us once more.”

 

“Dr Li?” Zion echoed to himself. It had been so long, he'd assumed the worst. Maybe a small, spiteful part had hoped for it. Ingram pushed a holotape into his hands.

 

“This little trip you're taking is a heck of an opportunity to find out as much as we can about the Institute and what they're planning. I put a clever little programme on this holotape that'll scan their network and download anything it finds.” She instructed, looking smug at her little plan. Zion meanwhile was busy making a list on the physical differences between this holotape and the functionally identical one given to him by the Railroad. It would be an awkward way to announce he was working for them both if he handed the wrong tape to the wrong faction.

 

“Is that it?” He asked in his best nonchalant voice. “Don't have any dry cleaning for me to pick up on the way back for you?”

 

“That's all for now, Sentinel. Ad Victorium.” Maxson dismissed him with a Brotherhood salute that was echoed by Ingram. Zion saluted back and headed to where Courier and X6 stood waiting.

 

“Ready?” She asked with a grin, holding out her left arm to interlink with his. He did so, and Courier tapped in the destination, and they were gone once more in a flash of blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well there we go. They’ve found MacCready at last. Wonder what’ll happen now? (Actually I don’t, its all planned out. But I have to keep up the intrigue)
> 
> Actually I just couldn’t think of a good chapter title, sorry. And I know this one was late, sorry! I couldn’t get to my laptop to type it up.
> 
> Still unemployed though and the paid job I have had cut my hours in half. Thank god im just saving for uni rather than actually trying to survive on my own. But I’ve been offered a paid day at one of my voluntary jobs, so I might take up the offer. All in all though, I’m working less so I should be writing more (I’m too tired after a full day to write or type much)
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked/disliked this chapter or any aspect of it, I really wanna hear feedback!


	28. Raven Rock, it is not.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the Institute wants a deal, they’re gonna have to work for it.

Zion, having never really experienced teleportation before, ended up tumbling backwards as his feet landed on new floor. Courier tried to catch him but he landed in a patch of grass with a heavy thud, receiving confused stares from various scientists. Courier helped him up, not stopping herself from laughing at his misfortune, and smacked the dirt off his clothes.

 

“Who puts grass in a mysterious organisation's hideout anyway? The Enclave didn't have grass.” Zion complained, trying to sound unfazed while wincing at the brightness of the Institute. It wasn't the lights that were the problem, hell they were duller than those in Vault 101, but the colour scheme. It was too white, too sterile. It looked like the old world hospitals in his dad's books but felt as comforting as they did now. The shiny plastic reflected the light across every surface and Zion felt the need to shade his eyes from it. No one held long lasting stares at them now an Zion wished it was from manners but they all seemed hesitant to stay too long near X6-88.

 

Something felt wrong here.

 

Eventually Courier nudged him towards a man in black scrubs who was headed towards them. He seemed to recognise Courier with a look of disappointment that she'd returned and instead went to address Zion instead. _Had enough of her already? Well, tough shit mate._

 

“You must be the Courier's friend that she mentioned before. She didn't give me your name, however. What might I call you?” He asked politely.

 

“Fawkes Deloria, who are you?” Zion asked back. He didn't want to sound too harsh but neither did he want this stranger to think he was the sweet and neat one. Relatively, maybe. The name was a last second decision, but he couldn't risk it if X6 had told them his name. It would ruin the entire mission to be attacked now for killing Zimmer.

 

“Justin Ayo, leader of the SRB. The other department heads and I decided I would be best suited for liaison with you.” He said with an air of pride. Courier and Zion shared a look that seemed to agree that the reason was that the other heads probably found his work to be of the least importance. “Deloria, I have assigned a gen 1 synth to tour you around our facility while the Courier and I discuss important matters with the other department heads.”

 

“Only if Courier is alright with that.” Zion insisted, to which Courier waved off his concern.

 

“I'll be fine. I've got X6 to protect me. Go enjoy yourself. Get me a souvenir.” She joked, following Ayo towards the stairs. She was not at all comfortable with the thought of being alone in a strange 'Science!' place again, but she sure wasn't going to show it.

 

The stairs were twisty but fairly pleasant, as far as stairs can be pleasant. They weren't very steep and Courier even started trying to race the men up the stairs, without any success. Eventually they ended up in what was basically a conference room but looked more like the evil plotting table from the evil villain's lair, complete with high ranking minions sat in chairs around it. All that was missing was the evil mastermind stroking his cat in his swivel chair.

 

Ayo noticed Courier staring at the empty head of the table and cleared his throat. “Our leader passed away recently and we have yet to decide a new leader.” He explained, then turned to X6. “Unit X6-88, wait outside.”

 

“No.” Courier stopped him. “Thought he was meant to be my bodyguard? He can't do much bodyguarding stood outside a room. Either you let him decide whether to stay in 'ere or I'm not staying either.” Courier turned to X6 with an almost genuine look of trust. “I trust in your judgment.”

 

X6 seemed taken for a loop, but quickly recovered. “I believe Courier has a point. I cannot perform my duties effectively when there is a wall purposefully between us.”

 

“I hope you're not planning on attacking me, but I can't be too sure.” Courier explained.

 

Ayo seemed annoyed at this, but conceded and showed Courier to the table. It had 4 people sat at it; obviously she recognised Ayo and Dr Li from before, but the other two were strangers.

 

“I'm Dr Madison Li, head of advanced systems. This is Dr Clayton Holdren, head of biosciences,” Dr Li indicated a man in green scrubs, “and Allie Filmore, head of facilities.” A woman in yellow scrubs nodded at Courier.

 

Courier leaned back and considered the people in front of her. Should she soften her accent so they could understand her better, or thicken it to confuse them? Well, there really was only one option.

 

“So, you wan' some soh'a deal wi' Vegas? Yuh kna we're an anarchic hellhole funded by gamblin', right?” Courier joked, grinning at the faces pulled as she spoke.

 

“That's not what we heard. Apparently you've done strides in science and engineering and lead the country in sourcing clean energy, pure water and medical supplies. Three vital components of surviving, and only your wasteland is successful in all three.” Filmore stated. “We're interested in sharing information between our civilisations, for the betterment of us both.”

 

Courier scoffed. “If ya wan' pure wa-er yuh should ask DC, no' me.” She lingered her sight at Dr Li and saw the woman squirm a little. _Oh yes, Zion has told me._ “Clean energy was old world tech, an' yuh seem to be doin' fine with medicine 'ere. Why d'yuh wan' a deal?”

 

“There's always improvements to be made by sharing methods and ideas. Vegas looks to gain just as much from a deal as we do.” Dr Li pushed. Courier had to concede at that point.

 

“There's gonna be a catch to this, there always is.” Courier stated, looking between each department head. “Come on, cu' to the chase already.” She assumed a posh accent “'We want to share information between our two technologically advanced societies, but...'?”

 

“The Commonwealth doesn't want our help, it seems.” Ayo relented. “We were hoping, with your connections to the Minutemen, you could help build the necessary bridges to improve the Commonwealth and for us to get much needed supplies from outside.”

 

“Wow, no-one likes yuh, eh? Wonder wot caused tha'. Was it the kidnappin' or the hostile robots or wot?” Courier asked. “Bu' your offer seems reasonable.” She agreed, speaking slowly as if to urge the gathered scientists to continue. When they didn't, and just stared awkwardly at each other she continued with a sigh. “Bin a' this game 6 years now, y'kna. Come on, 'ow do ya wan' me tuh prove me fightin' prowess then?”

 

“A number of years ago, the Institute was doing a secret research project deep within bioscience. We sealed it off after the head of the project, Dr Brian Virgil, destroyed most of the lab and ran away. We need you to clear it out and retrieve some vital data from the computers.” Holdren explained.

 

“Why no' send a courser?” Courier asked and watched in delight as Filmore gave a side-eyed look at Ayo as if to say 'Yeah, why not send a courser?'

 

“With the Brotherhood in the Commonwealth, we'd rather not waste coursers on such a trivial, but dangerous mission. And as you said, you need to prove your prowess before we task you with more important missions.” Ayo said brusquely. From his tone it was clear he was miffed at Courier's torment.

 

“Alrigh', sounds like fun.” Courier agreed, standing up from the table to turn to X6. “D'ya wanna tag along?”

 

“Ma'am, I'm not sure you understand my assignment.” X6 complained as they walked out the door and along the corridors. “I am to protect you as a sign of goodwill from the Institute. I have to come regardless of whether I want to or not.”

 

“No, you don't.” Courier said in a hushed tone. “I don't care about your assignment. If you don't want to come, I'll make an excuse for you.”

 

X6 sighed with frustration, shaking his head. “Fine. I want to come and see the supposed legendary Courier in action. Because from what I see before me, you don't look like you could live up to your reputation.”

 

Courier stared at him, examining his face for signs of lying for a moment before giving a wicked grin. “Race you to bioscience!” She declared, tearing it down the stairs. X6 jolted with shock and gave chase. Whether from pride of not wanting to be beaten, or his duty to follow the Courier as per the mission, he wasn't sure, but in the moment he raced her anyway, forcing scientists, synths and fellow coursers alike to jump out of their way as they pushed past, both determined to win.

 

X6 quickly caught up and was ahead with one flight of stairs left. He felt confident he would win, seen as he knew where bioscience was, when Courier simply couldn't know. Zion had been given a tour, Courier had been given a meeting. She'd have to stop and look and was behind anyway, he would win.

 

However, Courier figured the massive green sign with plant cells on it was a better bet for bioscience than the non-plant related signs, not to mention the green scrubs of the department head matching the colour of the sign. It was on the other side of the circular hall (meeting place? Whatever it was, she needed to run immediately forwards after the final flight of stairs.) Might as well cut out the middle man.

 

She raced through a flat onto the balcony on the far side and jumped over it, falling with a roll on the floor below and accompanied by a scream of surprise and a few gasps from nearby scientists. She ran forward and smacked her hand on the closed lab door, a mere second before X6 appeared before her looking confused.

 

“What the hell? Why would you do that?” He asked, turning back to look at the distance she'd fallen. It was only a one storey drop but she could've easily injured herself none-the-less. Courier shrugged with a proud smile.

 

“Cos you didn't think I would.” She answered truthfully, hitting the button for the door and walking in.

 

The air tasted a lot less fresh than it looked like it should. Rows upon rows of plants decorated the lab from neat long planters, some stacked high up to near the roof. Scientists in green scrubs moved slowly between the planters, making notes and feeling leaves. They looked less like scientists and more like people in costumes posing for lab photos. All that was missing was the person in safety goggles looking at dyed water in a test tube and someone performing a titration. Courier decided to tour herself, while X6 stayed behind.

 

“Must control the atmosphere to grow the plants. Woulda thought high tech lab like this would have it more localised. Different plants, different needs 'n all that. Hey, can I touch this?” Courier asked a nearby scientist, pointing at an aloe plant. “Feels genuine. Impressive. They figured out gardening it seems. What the fuck, is that a gorilla?”

 

Across the room, behind a pane of glass, existed a family of gorillas, moping around doing gorilla-esque things. One was eating, a couple were grooming and one was noticeably defecating. Courier ran over an stared in amazement.

 

“They're part of an animal-based synth project.” Explained a nearby scientist. “Rather than making synthetic humans, they're synthetic animals.”

 

“Is the idea food production, aesthetics or proving it can be done?” Courier asked.

 

“A little bit of all the choices, I believe. One benefit is that synthetic creatures should be able to survive longer than their organic counterparts.”

 

“Synth dogs.” Courier whispered to herself. “The immortal Good Boy.” She spotted X6 watching her and walked back to him a little sheepishly. “Sorry, I'm good to go. Where are we going?”

 

X6 turned and led the way to what looked like an old storage cupboard, sealed off and locked. Without a moment's hesitation, Courier started picking the lock and got the door open quickly. She gave a cocky smile to X6, who held up the key with a disapproving look. Courier's face fell and she led the way in, mumbling about X6's idea to open the door being the 'boring way'.

 

Beyond the door the walls looked very different. Far from the blinding, crisp plastic cleanliness of the main section of the Institute, this area was poorly lit and falling apart. Walls riveted together in a long forgotten era rusted at the seams, and stains of an unknown source marred the rest of the metal. The floor was littered in rubbish. Through an empty doorway a red light shone disturbing shadows across the walls. Barely 5 feet ahead of them shone a laser trip wire.

 

“Homely.” Courier joked, stepping over the lasers and drawing her holorifle, X6 followed her lead with a small smirk. They snaked their way slowly through the dark corridors, listening out for traps and enemies, passing the corpse of an unfortunate 2nd gen synth that lay dead on the floor.

 

Suddenly X6 shoved Courier against the wall with one arm as he dived there himself. Turret fire echoed against the floor mere moments afterwards. Courier tapped her chin at X6 in thanks before she ventured sticking her head out to locate the turret, but quickly drew it back as bullets whizzed past. Instead she drew a grenade and threw it haphazardly into the room, to little avail. She pulled out another only for X6 to take it instead and throw it in, this time more successfully as the turret fired no more after the explosion. They stepped out and Courier once again gave thanks, verbally this time, which X6 didn't acknowledge. Instead he walked into the room and was pulled back by Courier as a second turret fired at the wall behind where he had stood mere seconds before. This time she pulled out a pistol and quickly shot the turret between bursts until it fell silent like its friend.

 

Courier walked out again, only for a third turret to start shooting, forcing her into cover behind some metal shelves. This time they both fired almost simultaneously, causing the turret to erupt in a shower of sparks.

 

“Fucking turrets.” Courier cursed, kicking the remains of one across the room. The door at the far end stood locked, so Courier hacked the nearby terminal, opening the door and shutting down any remaining turrets.

 

The next room was large, and quiet. Clearly it had once been storage, with metal shelving reaching high up towards the ceiling, but now only long forgotten items sparsely decorated the shelves. The turrets might've been shut down, but there was a genuine feeling of foreboding in the room. They inched forward, only for the door to shut and lock behind them. Only way was forwards now.

 

That's when they heard it. Metal hitting against metal, somewhat softly in a poor facsimile of sneaking. Something was locked in with them and whatever it was was metallic and smart. And probably none too friendly to boot. Courier pointed to a pile of boxes still stood on a bottom level shelf and the duo slunk away to hide behind them.

 

Peering around the box, they realised what was making the noise. Red, piercing light swept over the shelves, while advanced, artificial fingers gently twitched in anticipation. An assaultron, searching for the intruders it had heard. Courier could barely contain her excitement. Last time she'd seen one was years ago and before her 'now-I'm-a-folkhero' power up, so she'd just ran away.

 

Without warning, she fired the holorifle just past the assaultron, hoping to distract it away but instead causing it to draw nearer with greater certainty in its actions. The staticy, piercing noise of the laser being charged up filled the room, until the electric beam fired out in a flash of red, disintegrating the hidey-box.

 

The duo darted out of the way just in time, X6 rolling to the right with grace while Courier flung herself to the left with all the skill of a sack of potatoes. She pushed herself up to stand, drawing her axe and switching it on.

 

X6 meanwhile had his gun ready and aimed, firing shots at the assaultron's delicate legs, hoping for them to give way. He heard the distinct humming from before, in the house, and saw the dazzling electric blue of the blade. _Surely she isn't about to..._

 

But Courier did, running towards the assaultron with her axe raised high, bringing it down in a fell swoop, smashing into the assaultron's 'eye'. Sparks flew out from where the axe lay buried in the machine's face. It spun and launched a powerful punch at Courier, who fell at the impact and instead grabbed at its legs, pulling it onto the floor. They tussled on the ground, both trying to grab the axe away from the other, while X6 stood watching, deciding his next move. He couldn't fire without risking harm to the Courier, so instead he ran over and smacked the assaultron in the side of its chest with his gun, knocking it sideways and causing it to let go of the axe long enough for Courier to grab it away and swing it through its legs, cutting them off and leaving the assaultron crawling along the floor. Right on cue, it started beeping and glowing.

 

X6 grabbed the stationary Courier to try and pull her to a safe distance, but she shrugged him off and instead started hacking at the assaultron with her axe instead.

 

“Ma'am, it's going to explode. We need to get to safety.” X6 urged, but Courier did not stop.

 

“It'll destroy our exits.” Courier pointed out as the axe struck the torso, revealing wires. “You get to safety.”

 

X6 briefly considered it, before joining Courier in trying to destroy the assaultron before it exploded; Courier slashing and X6 shooting. The beeping got faster and faster, the machine got hotter and the assaultron grabbed Courier's calf and started shaking it futilely. X6 raised an arm to his face to try and protect himself form the blast at the beeping reached a crescendo. Courier brought the axe down once more on the head, and the assaultron let go, silent once more and laying in a pile of destroyed electronics.

 

X6 lowered his arm, trying to maintain the impression that he hadn't felt even the slightest twinge of fear, but Courier wasn't even checking. She was searching the 'corpse' for useful material like she'd never been mere milliseconds from death, the axe switched off and laying at her side. X6 suddenly felt an urge to break the silence.

 

“I think I understand what Garvey meant now.” He stated, his voice betraying his awe. “Ma'am, you are a badass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t have much to say on this chapter, sorry.
> 
> I’ve got a job though and I’m starting to learn to drive again, so I’m not sure how reliable I’ll continue to be with updates, sorry! I’ve also had a hard time writing what should be the next chapter to write, so I’ve skipped ahead a few. I’m actually really into Harry Potter atm so I might make up for it by writing a different fic.
> 
> I realised that despite giving Courier a North East England accent its mainly just the dialect she speaks in. Reason is, I read everything in said accent, so she does speak right regardless. I spent extra time on this chapter figuring it out phonetically for you though, so enjoy that.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you’re enjoying this, or if you hate this. Or whatever! I’d love to hear from someone.


	29. Dr Li, I Presume?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion a decade in the making, and the author should practice the ‘show don’t tell’ rule of backstory but she couldn’t think of how to show this. (Sorry)

Zion dragged his feet behind the metallic, nightmare-fuel 1st gen synth as it gave explanations of each room and area. He had been hoping to see more exciting, titillating science in action, the kind that made Courier's stories of the Big MT sound like entry-level stuff, but he was forbidden from synth production and everything else was plants and computers.

 

The most exciting part of the tour was shortly after exiting advanced systems (which was apparently developing new weapons yet everyone was sat on computers looking miserable) and spotting Courier cheat in a foot race using gravity, hearing the screams and swearing of the nearby scientists as she did so.

 

No one seemed interested in talking to him, and any that did quickly realised how out of place he was. As a result, the tour was starting to drag, and Zion along with it. He'd asked everyone he could where MacCready was, but no-one could give him a solid answer.

 

Once the tour was finished and he was left to wander, he casually strolled back to an old storage cupboard he'd spotted, strangely fitted out with a computer. He locked himself in by jamming the lock, leaning against it as an extra precaution, and set about with his holotapes. They took a short while to finish they're task each, but once finished Zion slipped them back into his bag and walked out of the cupboard. A 3rd gen synth who was sweeping the floor nearby gave him a weird look, and Zion pointedly rearranged his trousers, making the synth look even more uncomfortable but stopped them asking questions.

 

Next Zion meandered to the supply shop the tour guide had shown him, and was negotiating the price of a rather nice, and very shiny, light microscope when he finally spotted MacCready, heading off in a different direction and following a couple of scientists. Zion wasted no time pelting it across the hall, almost knocking over an old man in yellow scrubs, to get to MacCready.

 

“RJ! RJ wait! It's me, Fawkes!” Zion shouted, half flinging himself into a hug around MacCready. The scientists accompanying him laughed at the sight, while MacCready awkwardly cleared his throat, wanting to return the hug but also not wanting to make any greater a fool of himself.

 

“Hey Fawkes.” MacCready greeted uncomfortably. “Glad to see you didn't just let my son run wild around the commonwealth then.” Zion let go of MacCready and bit his lip. MacCready shook his head with a smile. “It's fine, I'm sure there's a good reason you're all in the completely wrong place.”

 

“We missed you, dummy. That's why.” Zion insisted, but MacCready merely laughed. The scientists started walking away again, and MacCready gave a hasty goodbye before following them, leaving Zion stood, trying to appear cheerful at the brief meeting when inside he felt crushed. Something was seriously wrong if MacCready hadn't shoved him to the floor when he hugged him, especially in front of so many people, or punched him for letting Duncan run wild. Something had to be done. But for now, without the firepower to bring down the Institute, or to kidnap MacCready away, all Zion could do was go back and buy the microscope. Sure, the Institute was no greater threat than that which Courier and Zion had faced before, but they'd always had help. And the coursers stood glaring at him for what little he had said to MacCready looked to be too great of a threat to do anything rash.

 

Instead he headed back to advanced systems to await Dr Li, and set about his own plan. He felt even more awkward now without the tour guide giving him a reason to be in the lab, and he received a couple of stares as he walked in, but everyone quickly returned to their work. He walked up to the nearest scientist and gave a friendly smile.

 

“Hi! I'm looking for Dr Li, but she doesn't seem to be here right now. Do you know where she is or when she'll be back?” Zion asked sweetly.

 

“She's in a meeting, she'll be back soon.” The scientist replied a little harshly, without looking up from their screen. Zion thanked them and left them to it, wandering further into the lab where he spotted a young boy.

 

He had short hair and was wearing a hospital gown and was sat on the floor playing with an old, beat up toy. He was behind a sheet of thick, clear glass. The whole scene made it look like he was sick and contagious, except he seemed well and this was the computer nerd lab, not the doctor's.

 

“Hi there.” Zion greeted the child. “My name's Fawkes. I'm new here. Who are you?”

 

“I'm Shaun.” Shaun replied, seemingly pleased at the attention. “Are you from the surface like Dr Li? What's it like up there?”

 

“I am from the surface, same place as Dr Li, actually. It's nice! Dangerous, sure, but it's home.” Zion replied. “Have you ever been to the surface?”

 

“No, I think I was born down here.” Shaun said in a slightly puzzled voice.

 

“What are you doing in here?” Zion asked, indicating the cell-like containment.

 

“Dr Li says I have to stay in here. She's really nice. Is everyone as nice as you two on the surface? The other kids down here aren't very nice to me.”

 

“Aren't they? Well, next time you see them, point them out and we'll show them for being mean. Not everyone acts nice on the surface, but they can all be nice, if they so choose. Some just make a poor choice.” Zion nodded happily to himself, opening his mouth to continue but stopped by a quiet, shocked voice behind him.

 

“James?” It asked, with hints of tears at the edges. Zion turned to face the source, seeing Dr Li stood behind him, hands raised to her mouth in shock. Tears pricked in Zion's own eyes as he turned away from her, trying to hide his face from her and Shaun. Realising her mistake, Dr Li dropped her hands slowly and walked past Zion towards the computer desk behind him, clearing her throat. “I assume you have a good reason for being in here, Zion?” She asked, her tone now bitter and harsh.

 

“Lovely to see you again too, Dr Li. No worries, it's only been a decade since we last saw each other, and at least we had a beautiful goodbye before we parted.” Zion replied, resentment dripping off of every word.

 

“Zion, I barely know you. I don't have any obligation to babysit or care for you. Now, are you here for a reason or just to disrupt my work?” Dr Li asked, scowling at him.

 

“Nah, think I'll disrupt your work a while longer. Thought you'd like to know I survived, by the way. Since I was in a coma when you left.”

 

“Isn't it obvious that my concerns were always for your father, Zion? I left for my own reasons and I have no obligation to you.”

 

“Tell me, Dr Li.” Zion asked, sitting sideways on her desk. “When you see me, do you see my mother or my father? Am I the son of the man you loved, or the woman that ultimately won his affections?”

 

“What does it matter?”

 

“Because, if you see my mother, you left in anger, that just as my mum took dad from you, dad gave himself for me. And me lying there, near death, was spitting at his sacrifice. But if you see my father, you left in pain, because there was a chance you'd lose him all over again.” Zion explained, maintaining eye contact with Li throughout. She did so too.

 

“Maybe my leaving had nothing to do with you. I disagreed with the Brotherhood, so I left.” She answered, plain and simple. Rehearsed.

 

“You could've gone back to Rivet City. They'd've welcomed you back as a hero. But you didn't. You left the only place you knew, the only life you knew, for a disagreement?”

 

Dr Li turned away now, yet Zion kept staring for a few minutes more before sliding off the desk to stand and watch Shaun play with his toys. Li broke the silence.

 

“Your dad was always good with kids too.” She whispered, half not wanting Zion to hear. It felt like a wight had been lifted from him; he'd never been close to Dr Li, not really, but after his dad died, he'd looked to her as the next closest thing to his parents: the woman who'd known them best. When she left without saying goodbye, he'd thought of the worst case scenario. He could understand and take his paternal resemblance causing heartache, he wouldn't stand for bitterness over his mum's romantic success against him though.

 

“I'm sorry.” Zion said sincerely. “For being rude before. I thought you hated me.” He chuckled.

 

“You saved my life, back then under the memorial. I haven't forgotten.” Dr Li explained. Both avoided the other's gaze.

 

“Should probably get to the reason I'm here.” Zion said, clearing his throat. “The Brotherhood sent me.”

 

Dr Li gave a sharp breath through her teeth, her foul mood returned. “Knew it was only a matter of time before they would track me down. I've been looking over my shoulder for almost a decade, waiting for them to send someone to kill me.”

 

“They don't want you dead, I think they want your help with Prime again. Maxson didn't say it but...” Zion paused and thought for a second. “How much information on the Brotherhood and DC trickles here anyway?”

 

“We know the name of the current Elder, that they have an airship and are currently at Boston airport, but for anything else you'd have to ask the SRB. I didn't even know you'd survived, but I'd heard Prime had been destroyed. No-one else knew what that meant, however.” Li listed off.

 

Zion stepped closer to her and started talking quietly. “I led a rebellion, broke Megaton to Vault 87 off from the Brotherhood. I'm not really working with them any more.”

 

“Then why are you here?” She whispered back.

 

“I needed in. My friend, MacCready, is here. I made a deal with the Brotherhood so they'd help me in and in exchange they wanted me to talk you into returning to them. But, you see, I have a cunning plan.”

 

“I'll entertain it then.” Li said.

 

“With enough support I could probably overthrow Maxson. I have some support from the soldiers, mostly those that believed in Elder Lyons like I did. You could easily garner support from the scribes. Then, all it'd take is a fist fight and we lead the Brotherhood's destiny.

 

Dr Li gave him a look caught somewhere between boredom and puzzled. “Why would I want to do that? The Brotherhood might as well be left to its own devices, I'm better off here.”

 

“Did you not hear what happened to Rivet City?” Zion asked, his voice harsh but his eyes full of regret. “All those people chased from one of DC's most prosperous towns, all for the Brotherhood's ego.”

 

Dr Li suddenly became more alert, her face full of cautious curiosity. “What happened to Rivet City?”

 

“It's gone. Brotherhood needed materials and engines for their airship. Anyone they couldn't persuade, strong arm or recruit out of the city, they threatened. Heavily. Eventually only a few old timers, too set in their ways, remained. And what happens behind locked doors with laser weapons...” Zion couldn't meet Dr Li's eyes. It had once, just a decade ago, been the most major settlement of the Capital Wasteland, and while the abundance of pure water had harmed its trade and prosperity, it couldn't finish it off. “I tried to stop them, but I'd used every favour I had to save the inhabitants of Underworld. That's when I rebelled.”

 

They stood in silence, processing what Zion had said. Dr Li turned back to her research, and Zion watched her.

 

“Are you happy here?” He asked quietly. Li sighed, her shoulders sagging.

 

“You'd think being surrounded by the most cutting edge laboratory equipment and some of the greatest minds the worlds ever known would be enough. Only problem is the lack of transparency. I don't think we get the full story on everything that occurs down here. But that's hardly a reason to leave everything behind to help you overthrow the Brotherhood.” Li explained.

 

Just then, Courier entered, looking a little tired but unharmed. X6 followed her in, looking slightly more content with this assignment than the last time Zion had seen him. Courier gave a forced smile to Zion and walked over to Li.

 

“I got the files, Ayo wanted them so I handed them over to him.” She explained.

 

“Good. Why are you telling me this?” Li asked harshly.

 

“Don't you want to kna what was down there?”

 

“I'm sure Dr Ayo will tell me at our next meeting.”

 

“I wouldn't be so sure.” Courier warned darkly, turning to Zion. “Super Mutant lab. Abandoned, sure, but the reports were all there. Kidnapped people and turned them into super mutants. Probably replaced them with synths.” She explained, turning back to Li. “What d'ya say to tha’?”

 

Li stared at her in shocked silence, before shaking her head and stepping backwards. “No, I don't believe you.” She said, attempting a firm tone but failing. Courier indicated to X6 for him to speak.

 

“Ma'am, The Courier is being honest. It would appear that the super mutants populating the Commonwealth came from within the Institute.” He said, his voice objective but with a hint of disgust towards the super mutants. Li sat down in her chair, too shocked to stay standing.

 

“I knew Father was hiding something from us, but I never would have thought...” She whispered before turning to the other three visitors. “I didn't know... I mean, I knew about the SRB and their horrific methods, but I didn't think they went this far...”

 

Zion crossed the room and knelt before Dr Li, meeting her eyes calmly. “I know you didn't. Because you wouldn't have stood for it. You're harsh, you're tough, but you're a good person, Dr Li. You're a survivor who cares so much, you want everyone else to have the chance to survive as well. A greater chance to survive than what they have. Help me, and together we will help the Commonwealth more than the Institute has harmed it.”

 

Dr Li stared at him, her face downtrodden and full of self pity, until she looked away with a sigh. “You are so much like James, Zion. You both know how to push my buttons just how you'd like. You know, I never understood why the Institute was so damn selfish. All those innocent people up there, dying. And here I am surrounded by technology that could make their lives better. Yet we hide down here and insulate ourselves from everyone and everything. It's not right... It's not right...” She breathed, not meeting Zion's eyes any more. She took a deep breath and composed herself once more. “I'll make my way to the Brotherhood on my own, I can't take any chances being seen with you. I know some people at the Relay, don't worry.”

 

“Will you be alright?” Courier asked.

 

“I'll be fine, I got here from DC on my own. I think I can manage getting to the airport, thank you.” Li said, rolling her eyes, before turning to X6-88. “I hope you don't go blabbing to Justin about this.”

 

“I don't blab, ma'am.” X6 answered harshly. “But while I am assigned to assist The Courier, I must follow her wishes to not speak about anything she or her friends say or do to any member of the Institute.” X6 turned to Courier, who gave him a grin and two thumbs up.

 

“Decent. Shall we gan then?” Courier asked, jerking her thumb towards the door. Zion said a rushed goodbye to Li then followed her out. Once outside and far enough away not to be overheard, Courier whispered to Zion. “Bit of a risk, innit? She coulda blown yer cover.”

 

“I knew she wasn't very loyal to the Institute the second X6 attacked me in Megaton. She saw me kill Zimmer, she could've told them what happened to him, but she never did. I wonder why.” Zion whispered back. “What now?”

 

“Now we leave and work out how we get RJ out of here.”

 

“That'll be easy.” Zion moaned with heavy sarcasm. Courier just smirked.

 

“We broke in, how much harder could it get?” She asked, linking with his arm as they teleported back to the airport.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeahhhhhh, I need to practice show, don’t tell, but it feels like it made sense to have Zion tell it. I was thinking of, once I’ve finished this one, writing Fallout 3’s story as is, but starring Zion. I really love him. Even his name has grown on my while writing this. Make fun of his name now and I’ll defend him lol.
> 
> First Monty Python, now Black Adder, is there any masterpiece of British comedy I won’t quote or reference? The answer is no. It’s gonna be Morecambe and Wise next, lol.
> 
> While spell checking I realised ‘titillating’ has sexual connotations and thought of changing it but realised it was much funnier to have Zion hoping to see sexy sexy science. I need to stop using this word in my day to day vocabulary.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, or hated, or whatevered, this chapter, story or characters. I love to ready comments to see that people are actually reading this still!


	30. A Short Break

They returned to a better prepared Brotherhood this time. Maxson stood behind a solid wall of 10 or so paladins, each pointing their gun at the exact spot Courier had relayed back to last time. Shame that this time they ended up appearing 5m away and on the wrong side of the human barricade. There was a lot of embarrassed shuffling as the paladins regained formation between Maxson and Courier.

 

“Maxson, what's the meaning of this?” Zion demanded, pushing himself in front of Courier, with the desired effect. Many of the paladins were suddenly a lot more awkward at pointing their guns at a Sentinel than a civilian.

 

“The Courier is an enemy to the Brotherhood, regardless of your personal relationship with her.” Maxson declared. “She is to be treated as such.”

 

“Ey, I helped you out! Least I deserve is my bike and a 10 second 'ead start.” Courier demanded. “Don't want owt to do with you anyway.”

 

Zion scowled at Maxson, daring him to do anything less, but Maxson conceded quite reluctantly. “Fine. Bring the quad bike here.” He instructed, and a paladin rushed off. Zion held Courier close to whisper in her ear.

 

“Find somewhere safe. Not the base from before. I'll call you once I've left, we'll meet up.”Zion said, Courier nodding in response. She jumped on the bike, pulling X6 on board behind her, while Maxson counted down. By the time he'd reached 1, they were far out of sight and the bullets couldn't reach them. Zion scowled at Maxson.

 

“Got your way, huh? Trying to kill someone who's never wronged you?” Zion asked.

 

“Her actions have her deemed an enemy of the Brotherhood. She wronged all of us, and the sooner you put aside your personal feelings for her and realise that, the better.” Maxson warned.

 

“'Personal feelings'? She's my friend, Maxson. Your speaking as if there's anything different between us.” Zion pointed out, eyes narrowed. “Just because you haven't got close friends doesn't mean others don't.” He added quietly. There would never be anything different between Courier and himself, they were definitely incompatible for that.

 

“Regardless. Fraternising with the enemy is usually seen as treason, River. You're lucky I am willing to overlook your shortcomings. But if you wish to remain Sentinel, you should stop acting like the Brotherhood is your enemy.” Maxson advised. Zion had to stop himself from screaming 'Then stop acting like you are!' at him, the memory of his plan with Dr Li still going strong in his head. “Have you got the holotape?”

 

“Here.” Zion threw the holotape at Maxson, who caught it just by his ear. “And Dr Li has agreed to return, but in her own time. Can I leave now?”

 

“Fine. I have tried to make amends with you, Sentinel, but if you continue throwing my attempts in my face, and continue to disregard my advice, we're going to have a problem.” Maxson warned.

 

“The fuck is with people who consider asking me to do dangerous jobs the same as trying to be my friend?” Zion asked quietly to himself, striding away from Maxson to get his bike, his friends and his family.

 

They all left Boston airport together in silence, their path decorated by staring Brotherhood members. Zion pushed the bike, not paying them any mind, with Duncan sat on the seat, flanked on all sides by the rabble of friends: Charon, Preston, Piper, Nick, Dogmeat, Codsworth and Curie. They walked in silence until they felt far enough away, and were sure they weren't followed, where they ducked into a building and tried calling Courier. It went through, but the line was garbled, almost beyond comprehension.

 

“One of us is too far from a vault we've been to.” Zion explained to those around him. “Courier, can you hear me?”

 

“---not---fault,--------- where I ------------ contacted---” Came Courier's reply. “------ place------Sanctuary--- Sanctuary---,--- you------? --- me------.”

 

“Sanctuary, got it.” Zion repeated, clicking the line off. “Uh, does anyone know of a sanctuary she could mean?”

 

“It's where we meet Codsworth!” Duncan recalled, the thought of returning filling him with joy.

 

“Oh yes, Sanctuary Hills is the perfect destination to meet up.” Codsworth chattered happily. “A beautiful, vibrant community, perfect for a stay. Absolutely stunning this time of year.”

 

“Right, we'll head there then.” Zion agreed, suddenly remembering his two person bike, his crowd of 8 plus a dog, and the fact that his friend was far away, alone, with a potential threat masquerading as an ally from the enemy. “Ah, right, what do we do with this?” He asked, indicating the bike. They could move quicker on or without the bike than pushing it.

 

“Piper pressured Charon into showing her how to drive it.” Preston pointed out. “She and I could drive to Sanctuary and meet with Courier, that way Duncan has his family protecting him and Courier and I can set up Sanctuary for your arrival.”

 

“Aw, and miss out and this odd bunch road trip?” Piper pouted, but without malice. She had enjoyed driving the quad and was quite looking forward to blasting around on the bike.

 

“Alright, but be careful.” Zion stressed as Charon handed Piper the keys. Piper and Preston drove off while the rest followed them at quite a slower pace. Duncan pulled Zion down to whisper to Zion in true 4 year old style.

 

“What did Codsworth mean? He was alone in Sanctuary.” He asked loudly but in a hushed voice.

 

/////////////////////////////

 

They travelled with barely any stops; Nick, Charon, Curie and Codsworth didn't need sleep, Zion powered through and Duncan and Dogmeat were carried by Zion and Charon when they fell asleep. The result was a knackered party that turned up mid afternoon the next day, to be greeted by a busy settlement.

 

It seemed that either a message had spread round of by luck a good number of minutemen had arrived in Sanctuary, as the whole place was bustling with people learning, planning and helping out however they could. The haggard crew spotted Preston instructing two fresh faced minutemen, pointing to a map and then in a direction. The two nodded their thanks and hurried off, Preston turning to walk further into Sanctuary before Zion shouted out.

 

“Hey Preston! Had a busy night?” Zion asked as they were pushed past by more minutemen carrying armfuls of metal and wood.

 

“Some people were already camping out here and Courier recruited them. Others followed Piper and I.” Preston explained, looking extremely chuffed at the level of support. “We have people out recruiting more settlements, and people helping to make this a base for the Minutemen. If that's alright with you, Codsworth.” Preston added.

 

“Mister Garvey, I could think of no greater honour than to have the Minutemen as neighbours. I'm sure the master and mistress would agree.” Codsworth assured him, voice glowing with pride for his neighbourhood.

 

“We left your house untouched but we've scavenged the rest.” Preston said, before turning to Zion. “Courier's hacking and locking somewhere, I haven't seen her since we first turned up. X6 is patrolling; he doesn't do much for morale but at least 3 raider gangs have changed their minds about attacking just from the sight of him. Piper is helping with the scavenging.”

 

“Think we should search for Courier then. We all need a chat about what's happened and what we're gonna do next.” Zion instructed. He'd refused to say anything about the MacCready situation until he could tell them all at once, preferably without Duncan there, although he had assured Duncan his dad was alive and well.

 

“Sure. There's a house with a workbench and power armour frame outside it. We'll meet there in an hour.” Preston suggested. “If you'll excuse me, I've got some people to arrange.” Preston walked off, not getting 10 steps before being collared by more minutemen.

 

“Shall we split up then? I'll find some food for Duncan and Dogmeat, everyone else... Do as you please, I guess.” Zion suggested, taking Duncan's hand and leading him to a nearby house to search. Nick went to find Piper while Codsworth insisted on showing Curie his house, which left Charon stood in the empty clearing, feeling awkward and exposed. He slunk away to a quiet house, somewhat out of the way of everyone and everything else. As he entered the only non-ruined room, he spotted a familiar face sat in the corner, quietly fiddling with a ruined pipe pistol, a book propped open in front of her. Charon grabbed her attention by clearing his throat.

 

“There's... too many people out there.” Courier explained, almost embarrassed. But Charon couldn't help but agree, and grabbed ruined items himself to see what was salvageable, choosing to sit in the corridor instead.

 

///////////////////////////////

 

No matter who you asked, they would've all told you that the hour passed by far too fast, and soon enough they all found themselves in the house with the workbench out front. Duncan and Dogmeat had been left to play outside under supervision of some trustworthy recruits while Zion hovered in the doorway. The downside of this was that X6 now had to be in the meeting, as Zion was far too paranoid to risk leaving him unsupervised while Duncan was unsupervised.

 

No one seemed particularly happy with this arrangement, least of all X6, but they put up with it. He and Courier hid themselves in a corner, as far from everyone else as possible.

 

“Right. Update on the MacCready situation.” Zion started, all eyes on him. “He's apparently there by choice. We're gonna have to be creative to get him out.”

 

“He knew what he was getting himself into.” X6 pointed out. Zion breathed out deeply, trying to keep himself calm.

 

“Where are your loyalties, X6? At what point does your loyalty to the Courier end?” He asked.

 

“My assignment is to protect the Courier as her well being is vital to the Institute. I follow her orders under the impression that assisting her will improve relationships with the Institute.” X6 explained.

 

“That doesn't answer my question. At what point does the 'helping the Courier' get outweighed with 'helping the Institute'?”

 

“So long as the Courier works in the interests of the Institute and their plans, it won't.” X6 assured him, although Zion seemed less than assured.

 

“Enough with the 20 questions!” Courier complained. “Look, I'm working on it. But leave it as my problem and move on.”

 

“Fine. I reckon Courier and I should, in the meantime, help improve the conditions here in the Commonwealth, obviously with the help of the Minutemen and any of you who wish to help out. But I have a delivery to make to some friends before I do much else. Any objections?” Zion asked, noting the tone of annoyance in Courier's voice. It seemed that the quicker this was over, the better. Clearly the long day and many strangers was taking a toll, and this meeting surely wasn't helping.

 

“Shouldn't we be planning a little bit further than just tomorrow?” Piper asked, happily throwing Zion's 'short meeting' plan out of the window.

 

“Alright, I'll make the delivery and then do some more jobs for them. Happy?” Zion asked, eyes flitting over to X6, hoping Piper would get the hint of 'I'm gonna help the Railroad as they are a better bet for the Commonwealth's future than the Brotherhood but PLEASE don't make me say it in front of a courser.'

 

“Alright, and what should the rest of us do?” Piper asked, meeting Zion's eyes with a smallest nod to show she understood.

 

“That's for General Garvey to decide.” Courier declared, glad to be taking as far back a step as possible.

 

“Well, we've gotten big enough that we're having trouble communicating with all our settlements. It's a good problem to have. And I think I have a solution. I think it's time to retake The Castle.” Preston announced, to a chorus of excited gasps, and shared looks of confusion between non-commonwealth citizens. Preston noticed the looks and cleared his throat to continue. “It used to be the Minutmen HQ, way before my time. Well fortified, centrally located, and most important- it has a powerful radio transmitter we can use to broadcast to the whole Commonwealth.”

 

“If it was truly as good as you say, how did you lose it?” X6 asked, intrigued either in the history or the holes in the plan.

 

“It was long before I joined up, but the story I heard was that some kind of monster came out of the sea and destroyed the fort. A lot of leaders were killed in that battle and I guess nobody ever felt it was worth the risk to retake it.” Preston explained, a little miffed at X6's tone. “I've always wondered if losing the radio was the beginning of all our later problems.” Preston added, mostly to himself. From somewhere in X6's direction a quiet 'typical Commonwealth superstitious nonsense' could be heard.

 

“Right. Two goals, makes sense to split into 2 groups.” Nick summarised. “I'd quite enjoy a 'quiet delivery' with Zion, if no-one has any objections.” Nick turned and nodded at Zion, who nodded back.

 

“Always wondered what Fort Independence looked like. Guess I'll go with Preston and find out.” Piper mused, wandering over to stand with Preston.

 

“I'll go with Preston too.” Courier said, turning to X6. “Who are you wan'ing to go with? No, wait, let me guess.”

 

“Very funny, ma'am.” X6 dead panned.

 

“Makes sense for Curie to go with Zion then.” Courier suggested. “I kna some medicine, so you'd be a greater help to Zion.”

 

“Oh, but eet iz a simple delivery, no? Why would you need a doctor?” Curie queried.

 

“Because he's hurt himself walking through an open door before.” Charon explained, standing by Zion to make his intentions clear.

 

“Oh aye, I remember that. How'd you manage to walk into an open door, like?” Courier asked.

 

“Codsworth, who are you going with then?” Zion asked, pointedly changing the subject.

 

“A door he'd opened himself.” Charon added, giving a wicked smirk to Zion and receiving a death glare back.

 

“I suppose it doesn't matter either way.” Codsworth pointed out, noticing how both teams had 4 people each. “But I think I would enjoy spending more time with Mister Garvey.”

 

“That just leaves Duncan and Dogmeat.” Nick pointed out. Zion sighed, rubbing his mouth before answering.

 

“I think it would be better for Duncan not to join our 'delivery' job. While I don't trust everyone on your team,” Zion said pointedly at X6, who sat unperturbed, “I'd rather not get him mixed up with my 'friends'.”

 

“You can trust us, Zion. We won't let any harm befall Duncan.” Preston assured him.

 

“Aye, they've kept him alive this log, haven't they?” Courier added.

 

“It's settled then.” Zion capped off. “But, let's just relax for one night, please. I haven't slept properly in what feels like years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have genuinely seen someone walk into an open door. It was hilarious!
> 
> I had a full paragraph typed out for this but AO3 glitched out and now I don’t do I’ll keep it brief. I’m taking a break from writing this for a while because I’m just not feeling inspired to write it. I know what’s gonna happen next, it’s all planned out, but I just have no inspiration to write it yet. Instead I’m gonna put this on the back burner and write other fanfics instead to improve my skills so I can come back to this later. Hope you don’t mind.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first fanfic I’ve written in nearly a decade, so I’m probably a little rusty. I appreciate feedback, and sorry for any errors.


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